Rock and a Hard Place
by just slummin
Summary: Takes place after the events of The Little Things. This is the ending of the MalRiver storyline which started with Voices.  Mal and River face a final challenge to their growing family.
1. Chapter 1

**Rock and a Hard Place**

**Part I—The Announcement**

Author: justslummin

Disclaimer: I own none of these characters, but I love to play with 'em.

Rating: PG

Author's Note: This story takes place a few weeks after the events of "The Little Things."

Summary: Mal and River face early pregnancy woes, and Inara prepares to set up shop.

XXXXXXXXXX

River leaned her head pitifully against Mal's thigh, weakened by the violent purging of her stomach contents. Mal leaned down to pull her long hair back and wipe her clammy brow with a cool, wet cloth. "Maybehaps we should check with Simon again, darlin'," he said gently. "You're lookin' mighty pale to me."

River shook her head, instantly regretting the motion as another wave of nausea threatened to rid her of her last bit of sustenance. She stilled for a moment, then carefully got up from her knees and pushed the toilet back into the wall, pulling the sink back down. "Simon said it's perfectly normal to be experiencing morning sickness at this stage," she said miserably.

Mal helped steady her as she stumbled back to their bed. "Even so," he said, "I hate to see you like this, bao bei." He pulled the blanket up to her chin, kissing her forehead lightly. He sat gingerly on the bed beside her. "Think you'll be okay down here alone for awhile?"

"Yes, ai ren. Go ahead before everybody begins to look for you," River answered listlessly.

They had mutually agreed to keep the news of the baby private for the time being, at least until the Operative could be dropped off on their next landfall. It was not that they distrusted him exactly, but Mal's natural inclination to hold his cards close to his chest would not be overridden by the slender bond that had developed between the two men on Osiris.

And then there was the possibility, however unlikely, that River could miscarry as she had before. Simon had assured the couple that everything was proceeding as it should but that the first trimester was the most likely time for a miscarriage to occur. Added to that was the somewhat mixed feelings that they shared about the pregnancy to begin with.

With all of these thoughts running through his head, Mal forced a smile to his lips as he looked down at River. "I'll be back to check on you soon's I can darlin'. May even be able to scrounge up a stale cracker or two."

River smiled wanly, and closed her eyes to sleep.

XXXXXXXXXX

Mal made his way down to the infirmary carrying a breakfast tray for the Operative. This task had fallen mainly to him because the crew in general still felt less than charitable to the man. Mal had no great need to persuade them otherwise, and was almost as eager as they were to see the Operative recover enough to leave, figuring he couldn't very well find out any useful information while lying in Serenity's infirmary.

"Good morning, Captain," the Operative said, easing himself up slowly into a sitting position.

"Mornin'," Mal replied. He set the tray over the Operative's lap. "Looks like you're almost liable to live through the day today."

The Operative smiled, stirring his protein much less than eagerly. "Yes, Dr. Tam seems to think I'll be able to get off at your next stop. I regret not being able to do so earlier."

Mal shrugged. "Ain't like we were needin' the bed," he said.

"Even so, I'm sure your crew would prefer me to go away sooner rather than later. And of course, were I gone, Mrs. Reynolds could have her prenatal visits here instead of elsewhere."

Mal stared at the Operative, his jaw tightening reflexively. "What makes you think Mrs. Reynolds is in need of prenatal care?" His voice carried an unmistakable warning.

The Operative looked at him steadily. "I've been able to do nothing but lie here and listen, Captain. Dr. Tam has been summoned to your bunk, which I assume you share with Mrs. Reynolds, three times in the past five days, always in the early morning hours. He has also been surreptitiously studying information on gestational development in his spare moments in the infirmary."

"Apparently not surreptitiously enough," Mal said, obviously annoyed.

At Mal's grim look, the Operative continued. "He didn't know I could see what he was studying, Captain. I'm quite certain it was an entirely honest mistake on his part. But don't concern yourself about it. It is of no importance to me whether you have a child or not. My only concern is to ensure that the matter I sought your assistance in is brought to a successful conclusion. Other than that, I have no intention of disturbing you or your family in the slightest way."

Mal's steel blue eyes flashed dangerously. "You'd best be sure that's the case. I still got no problem droppin' you, if I conjure there's cause."

"Understood, Captain." The Operative calmly ate his breakfast, watching the set of Mal's shoulders as he left the infirmary.

XXXXXXXXXX

Inara stepped back to admire the work she and Jayne had done. "That looks just perfect," she said, eyes shining with pleasure.

Jayne began gathering up his tools, a pleased grin on his lips. "Glad ya' like it, 'Nara. Those retractable shelves were a mite tricky, but I think they turned out all right."

"They're just what I was hoping for," Inara said happily. "This gives the illusion of so much more space. I'm sure my clients will appreciate that."

"Yeah, well," Jayne said, clearing his throat. "Reckon it is all about illusion, at that."

Inara's wide smile was replaced by a small frown. "What do you mean, Jayne?"

Her tone held a slight rebuke, but Jayne paid no heed to it. "What I mean is that I reckon your job requires a good bit of play-actin'," he said. "Ya' know, actin' like ya' give a rat's ass 'bout the one you're beddin'."

Inara straightened her spine, fully intending that Jayne understand her next words. "It's not play-acting, Jayne. I do care about my clients. I try to choose wisely in that regard."

She stood there quietly, inwardly wincing at the thought of how poorly she'd chosen Andrew Chau, and what the choice had cost her.

Jayne, to his credit, did not broach that subject. "I'm sure ya' do, 'Nara. Only it can't mean nothin' to ya', sexin' all those strangers."

Inara rolled her eyes. "Now you sound like Mal. There's a great difference between what I do and what those…whores you use do."

Jayne looked at her appraisingly. "I reckon that's probably true. Else your rates wouldn't be so high." Seeing the fire in her almond eyes, he backtracked a bit. "All's I'm sayin' is that it must be kinda' strainin' sometimes, bein' everybody's fantasy-like." When Inara visibly relaxed, he added carefully, "Though I'm sure you're good at it."

Inara graced him with a smile, arching one eyebrow delicately. "You have no idea," she said, happy to be on more familiar ground.

Jayne swallowed thickly, suddenly all too aware of all manner of things he'd been studiously ignoring since arriving in her shuttle. He forced nonchalance into his answer. "Reckon I don't, at that," he said, whistling a tune as he carried his tools out without a backward glance.

XXXXXXXXXX

Having managed to find a few crackers in the back of a galley cabinet, Mal climbed down into his bunk. River stood in front of the mirror, her head tilted to the side. Noticing that she was no longer visibly weaving unsteadily, Mal came up behind her and kissed the smooth column of her exposed neck.

"You look like you feel a mite better," he said encouragingly.

River frowned, still looking at her reflection. "Pregnant women are supposed to glow," she said petulantly. "Don't see any glow."

Mal chuckled, encircling her waist with his arms. "I don't know much about it, but I conjure the glowin'll come after the morning sickness goes away," he said. Turning her to face him, he continued. "I'm thinkin' we may as well go ahead and let everybody know about the little one. No use in holdin' off. And maybe one of the womenfolk will know better'n me or Simon somethin' to help with the whole losing-breakfast-every-mornin' thing."

River looked at him intently, and then began to smile. "You're happy," she said. "You want them to know because you're happy."

"That ain't such an oddity, is it?" he asked, smiling that lovely slow smile that always made River's knees go weak. "Man's got a right to be happy on account of such as this."

River leaned forward to kiss him soundly, her earlier mood dispelled. "Every right in the 'verse, ai ren," she answered happily.

XXXXXXXXXX

"So, there's to be a little one in a little under seven months," Mal concluded. The table erupted in hearty congratulations all around, with much back-slapping for Mal and hugging for River.

Anya was beside herself with glee, pulling urgently on Mal's pant leg for attention. Swinging her up into his arms, he asked, "You happy 'bout the thought of havin' a little playmate, blondie?"

"Oh yes, Captain Mal," she said, smiling widely to reveal an empty space where a tooth had been earlier in the day. Mal gazed at her in mock horror. "Somebody stealin' your teeth, little one?"

Anya giggled. "No, silly," she said patiently. "It comed out all on its own this mornin'. Wanna see it?"

She began to fumble around in her pockets, finally producing the little tooth for Mal's inspection. "Well now," he said, holding it as if it were a treasure. "Ain't that somethin'?"

"Zoe said if'n I put it under my pillow, it might turn into a coin in the night."

Mal handed the tooth back. "Then you'd best be putting it somewhere safe 'til bedtime," he advised. Setting her down gently, he whispered, "And don't tell Mr. Jayne that teeth turn into coin, or we're all like to wake up toothless tomorrow mornin'."

Anya snickered at the thought of a toothless crew, and kissed Mal's cheek before scampering off to show everyone else at the table her prized possession. Catching the unusual brightness in Zoe's eyes, Mal smiled.

XXXXXXXXXX

Kaylee gave Simon her most annoyed look. "I can't believe you didn't tell me about River," she said.

Holding up his hands in the universal symbol of surrender, Simon said, "I couldn't tell you, ai ren. It wasn't my place to say."

Kaylee, secretly more relieved that Simon's earlier moods had nothing to do with wanting to leave Serenity than upset by his silence, let her husband off the hook and wrapped her arms around him. "Don't know why you was worried, honey. River's gonna be just shiny this time."

"I'm sure she will," Simon said, so pleased he didn't have to hide his knowledge from Kaylee any longer, and even more pleased that both River and Mal had seemed genuinely happy when the announcement was made.

"So, Dr. Tam," Kaylee whispered against his neck, distracting him completely from his train of thought. "Ya' wanna practice makin' a cousin for your sister's baby?" She wriggled her hips seductively against him.

"So long as it's just practice for now," Simon murmured, sliding his strong hands under her shirt to caress her breasts. "I think we need lots and lots of practice."

Her breath catching at his touch, Kaylee had to agree.

XXXXXXXXXX

The Senator sat looking carefully at the report on his desk. "You're positive of this?" he asked.

"There is absolutely no doubt. The backup security feed was quite clear. His accomplice was Malcolm Reynolds."

The Senator tapped his chin thoughtfully. "I must admit to a certain amount of surprise. I would have thought the two were mortal enemies."

"Reynolds has a way of persuading people to do things they wouldn't normally do," the other man said dryly. "We both know about his involvement in the Miranda incident. This is just another example of his terrorist leanings."

The Senator nodded. "All right, Lt. Womack. See that a warrant is properly issued."

Now it was Womack's turn for surprise. "You intend to have him arrested and tried publicly, knowing what he knows?"

The Senator smiled coldly. "Did I say anything about a trial?"

XXXXXXXXXX

To be continued


	2. Chapter 2

**Rock and a Hard Place**

**Part II—Back to Work**

Author: justslummin

Disclaimer: I own none of these characters. I just like to play with 'em.

Rating: PG

Summary: Mal arranges a job on Santo, and Inara sets up a meeting with her first client since her attack.

XXXXXXXXXX

"You altogether sure you want to meet the contact alone, sir?" Zoe asked. "Especially considering we ain't ever dealt with him before?"

Everyone at the table except River looked at Mal skeptically. "Monty says he's good. That's enough for me. And he's a mite peculiar about who he's willin' to meet. Monty said as much in his wave."

"Yeah well, Monty ain't exactly always the best judge of character, is he?" Jayne pointed out. "Married whatever-the-hell-her-name-is, didn't he?"

Mal grimaced, not appreciating the reminder. "Him and half the men in the 'verse," he answered tersely. "Anyhow, this job should be easy peasy. In and out. And the pay's decent. After the meet and greet, Zoe, I'll call you with the coordinates to the goods. You and Jayne can bring the mule, we'll load up, and be outta there in record time. Everybody clear?"

As they all nodded their understanding, Mal continued. "Doc, you sure our patient's ready to go?"

"Yes, he's doing quite well. I've given him antibiotics he can take orally until the course is finished, but he should be fine."

"Good. That's one less worry then," Mal said. Turning to River, he asked, "How long 'til we reach Santo?"

"Three hours," she replied.

"Okay then. Jayne, start clearing a space in the cargo bay. I'll be down to help in a bit. Everybody else, you know what to do. Best be gettin' to it."

The crew dispersed to their various tasks, happy at the prospect of profitable work again.

XXXXXXXXXX

Inara, hearing the knock on her shuttle door, ended her wave to the counselor.

"Good luck, Inara," the older woman said kindly. "I'll look forward to hearing how it goes."

Inara smiled. "I'll tell you all about it next session."

Turning, she saw that Mal was already in the room. Sighing, she said, "Well, I see we're making progress. You did at least knock as you were barging in this time."

Ignoring the bait, Mal said, "So Kaylee says you've got a client lined up in Santo. How long we need to stay dirtside?"

"Just for the afternoon. I'll be back for dinner."

Mal resisted the impulse to make a crude remark about the haste of the appointment. Instead, he asked, "This a regular client, or somebody new?"

Tempted to answer sharply, Inara realized why he asked the question. "It will be fine, Mal. Mr. Harrison is a client I've seen before. There's no need for concern."

Mal nodded. "Good to know. River'll be on the bridge the whole time we're on Santo, so you can wave her if…need be," he finished awkwardly.

Inara smiled thinly. "I'll keep that in mind," she said, by way of a subtle dismissal. As Mal walked back out the door, she thought briefly that she was glad he had cared enough to question her about it at all.

XXXXXXXXXX

Anya sat on Zoe's lap, reading laboriously from a book she'd found in the common area. Making a note to find more age-appropriate material the next chance she got, Zoe listened quietly as the child sounded out the words. Finally too tired and frustrated to continue, Anya put the book down with an air of defeat.

"You did good, little one. That was a hard book," Zoe encouraged. Sensing that there was something on the child's mind beyond the reading difficulty, Zoe added calmly, "Whatcha' thinkin' on, Anya?"

"When the new baby comes, Captain Mal will be its Daddy."

"Yes," Zoe answered.

"And Miss River will be its Mama."

"Um hmm," Zoe agreed.

Anya sighed and fell silent. Discerning the source of her troubled thoughts, Zoe said, "You know, little one, sometimes your family ain't necessarily your blood kin. And it's all right to belong to a family you weren't born to." She paused briefly, considering how to convey her next words. "And when something happens to the family you have, there's nothing wrong with choosing a new one."

Anya looked up at her, the child's huge blue eyes uncertain. Zoe continued. "You loved your Mama a lot, right?"

"More'n anything," Anya answered sadly.

"And you wanted her to be happy, right?"

"Yes," Anya replied in a small voice.

"Do you think she loved you like that? Wanted you to be happy?" Zoe asked gently.

"Yes," Anya answered with certainty.

Zoe hugged the child tightly to her breast. "Your mama would be glad to know you've got a new family, don't you think?"

Anya's eyes filled with sudden tears. "You don't think she'd mind?" she asked.

"No, little one, she wouldn't mind," Zoe assured her.

Anya reached up to touch Zoe's face tenderly. "You're kinda like Mama sometimes, Zoe," she whispered.

Zoe smiled, saying nothing.

Anya continued in a tentative voice. "Do you think maybe I might…call you Mama? If'n you think my real Mama wouldn't mind?"

Zoe spoke past the knot in her throat. "I think that would be a fine thing."

Anya's smile was like a gentle rain after a long drought, sinking deep into Zoe's soul and soothing wounds she'd long since buried.

XXXXXXXXXX

Mal watched as the Operative moved carefully around the cargo bay, testing the limits of his stamina.

"Think you're up to it?" Mal asked casually.

The Operative wiped the sweat that had beaded on his brow. "Yes, Captain Reynolds. I am happy to say that I am now quite capable of managing on my own. Your crew will be pleased, I'm sure."

In their defense, Mal answered, "They're good folk. Can't really blame them for being less than welcomin' to ya', considerin'."

"True enough. I'll admit to a certain surprise that none of them tried to kill me in my sleep."

"Well, they usually like their violence a little more straight up," Mal replied sardonically.

"I'll keep it in mind should we meet again," the Operative answered.

As he was speaking, Mal felt the sensation of River's smooth landing on Santo. "Seems we're there," he said, preparing to open the ramp. "You let me know soon's you find out anything, dong ma?"

The Operative nodded, straightening his shoulders as sunlight flooded into the cargo bay. "You'll be the first to know," he agreed, stepping out into the dust of Santo's docks. Mal watched until he disappeared in the crowd milling about outside.

Then, checking his weapon once more, he left Serenity, headed to meet Monty's contact.

XXXXXXXXXX

Kaylee and River sat on the bridge, watching Inara's shuttle detach gracefully from Serenity.

"Ya' think she'll be all right?" Kaylee asked anxiously. "I ain't all that sure she's ready for clients just yet."

River tilted her head as if listening to music no one else could hear. "Not all right yet, but will be. Going to find the key to unlock the mystery soon."

"What d'ya' mean?" Kaylee asked curiously.

River's attention jerked back to the present abruptly. "I don't know," she said, smiling softly. "Probably nothing at all."

"Yeah, well," Kaylee said, "I ain't the only one's noticed your 'probly nothin's' turn out to be big ole somethin's most times."

"Guess they do," River said, as if the thought had never occurred to her in just that way. She stretched her legs out under the console, feeling somewhat restless when Mal was off the ship.

Sensing the change in her mood, Kaylee decided to change the subject as well. "So, sister-in-law, how's it feel to be carryin' a little life inside ya'?"

River smiled widely, unconsciously stroking her belly. "It's like…" She stopped, realizing there were really no words to describe the multitude of emotions the baby had brought in its wake.

But Kaylee's bubbly laughter rang out in the small space, saving her from having to articulate an answer. "My mama used to say findin' out she was pregnant was the best bad news she ever got, or the worst good news, dependin' on the day."

River giggled, glad for the easiness of talking with Kaylee. "Mrs. Frye is a very wise woman," she said.

"Still, Cap'n looks happy 'nough to burst with it," Kaylee observed. "And did you see him with Anya at the table? Wants everybody to think he's a mean old man, but that child just brings out the pure joy in him. 'Magine how he'll be with one of his own!"

Both women smiled at the mental image. Then River, turning her thoughts back to Kaylee, asked, "Are you and Simon planning to have children?"

Kaylee snorted. "I don't think we're in no ways ready to be thinkin' on that just yet."

River looked at her intently. "But you do think about it, don't you?"

"It'll happen when it happens," Kaylee answered lightly. "'Til then, I can just spoil the mess outta yours. Lookin' forward to bein' Aunt Kaylee to someone right here on the ship. Any ideas yet 'bout whether I'm to have a niece or a nephew?"

"Nothing yet," River answered. She placed her hand back on her abdomen. "But soon, I think." She felt the now-familiar pang of grief as her mind drifted to thoughts of the child she'd lost. But now, tempering that ache was the hope of a new life, growing stronger every day, and giving her a renewed sense of endless possibility. She sat, looking out at the unfamiliar landscape before her, lulled into peace by the cheerful sound of Kaylee's voice.

XXXXXXXXXX

Lt. Womack looked at his long-range sensors and smiled a cold smile. Serenity had apparently docked on Santo. And he knew that where Serenity was, Malcolm Reynolds was sure to be. He was looking forward to encountering Reynolds again, still harboring more than a little resentment for the loss of coin when the hun dan had thwarted his plan to retrieve Tracey. Of course, if he delivered Reynolds up to the Senator per his meticulous instructions, he stood to make a great deal more coin now. The Senator was a wealthy man, and Womack liked that in a client. It was just a damn shame the Senator had specified that Reynolds be alive when he was handed over to the Fed station on Santo. Womack would have much preferred ending him first.

Checking the cortex to be sure the warrant had been broadcast and he could proceed unhindered, he set course for Santo. With any luck at all, he'd be there by late afternoon, he thought, settling back at the helm to think about how he'd spend the Senator's blood money.

XXXXXXXXXX

To be continued


	3. Chapter 3

**Rock and a Hard Place**

**Part III—Cold Feet**

Author: justslummin

Disclaimer: I own none of these characters. I just like to play with 'em.

Rating: PG

Summary: Inara's appointment ends badly, and Jayne wants to know why.

XXXXXXXXXX

Inara smiled her most practiced smile. "It's such a pleasure to see you again, Aaron," she said in honeyed tones.

"The pleasure is entirely mine, Inara. You're just as beautiful as ever." Aaron Harrison stood with all the dignity of his sixty years. He truly was pleased to see the Companion, as she was the only one he would contract with after his wife's death. Inara Serra reminded him of his Eleanor in her youth, before terrible sickness had ravaged her body and finally her mind as well.

Taking a seat, he watched the grace of her movements as she prepared his tea, all the while conversing with him in the gentle tones which soothed his heart. He wished that they had longer than one afternoon, as he generally preferred to have at least two days with her, the first typically spent reacquainting themselves and the second, given to more physical pursuits.

But pressing business matters made the extra time impossible. Thinking of how soon their time would be over and how very much he had anticipated her arrival, he shifted in his chair, knowing that Inara was attuned by now to every nuance of his body language.

Inara, of course, saw the subtle movement and knew what was expected. She rose and came to sit lightly in her client's lap, willing her body to loosen the unanticipated stiffening of her muscles. Pulling her hairpins out in what she hoped looked like a seductive gesture, she shook out the wavy tresses, letting them fall loosely about her shoulders.

Harrison entwined his fingers gently in her hair, drawing her forward to capture her lips in a kiss. Finding it suddenly difficult to breathe, Inara controlled the impulse to jerk away, praying that there was no outward sign of her inner struggle. As her client's hands began to undo the simple fastenings of her dress, Inara's heart began to pound painfully in her chest, and she began to tremble with the effort of sitting still beneath those hands. She closed her eyes, but that was a horrible mistake. Searching frantically in her mind for a kind face, she could only see the terrible visage of Atherton Wing, his face drawn in fury.

She gasped, and wrenched herself away from Harrison, pulling her opened bodice tightly around her.

"My God, Inara," he said, alarmed by the wild look in her eyes, "Did I hurt you?"

Inara blinked, sinking to her knees with the intensity of her panic. "No, no, of course not," she managed to say. Fastening her dress with shaking fingers, she looked up at her client hesitantly.

Harrison sat perfectly still, his brows wrinkled in concern and confusion. "Are you sure? You seem…" He paused delicately, unsure how to finish the sentence.

Inara tried to calm her frantic breathing. How to explain to this man, who had only treated her with kindness in their every encounter, that he had triggered the memory of a sadistic rapist in her mind? There was no way, as far as she could imagine, that the knowledge could be shared. So, she chose mystery over truth, making her last defense.

"I'm so sorry, Aaron," she said, trying to regain her composure. "I can't fulfill the terms of our contract today. I sincerely regret the inconvenience. I will of course see that the credits are returned to you account immediately."

She stood, her eyes begging him to accept her statement without question, terrified as to what she would do if he did not.

Harrison rose slowly, tempted to reach out to touch her. But the haunted look in her beautiful eyes stopped him short. As badly as he wanted to know what could have elicited such a reaction in the normally calmly collected woman, he would not pain her by questioning her or pressuring her in any way.

He held up his hands in a non-offensive gesture. "It is all right, my dear. Just let me know the next time you are on Santo. I'll look forward to seeing you again." He bowed slightly, and made a graceful exit.

Inara sat heavily on her couch, her legs suddenly unable to support her weight. She sat for a short time, her mind whirring with uncertainty. Then, straightening her spine, she went to the cockpit of her shuttle and headed home to Serenity.

XXXXXXXXXX

Jayne was getting his weapons ready for Mal's call when he heard the sound of Inara's shuttle docking with Serenity. Frowning, he checked his watch. Though he was loath to admit it to himself, he had been hoping she would return before he had to leave the ship with Zoe to pick up the cargo. But he had not expected her to be quite so early. Thinking that something must have gone wrong, he determined to find out what that something was.

He approached the shuttle door quietly, listening intently for anything that might help him ascertain what he was likely to encounter on the other side. For a moment, he even entertained the notion that perhaps Inara had simply brought her client back to Serenity, something she had done on rare occasions before.

But leaning his head against the shuttle door, he heard no sounds at all from within. He took a deep breath and knocked on the door, fully realizing that this was the first time he'd ever been to her shuttle without an invitation and a box of tools or a crate in his hands.

He heard a sharp intake of breath from inside the shuttle, and then silence for a moment. Finally, Inara's voice called out, "Who is it?"

"It's me," Jayne answered, not liking the hint of recent crying he heard in her question.

"What do you want?" she said through the door.

He could tell that her voice was closer than it had been a moment ago.

"I wanna come in and quit talkin' through the gorram door," he said, filled with an uncomfortableness about the whole situation.

To his surprise, he heard the click of the locking mechanism being released, and the door opened to him. Inara stood there slightly disheveled, her eyes suspiciously bright. Something in Jayne's belly twisted uncomfortably.

"You all right?" he asked, the gentleness in his tone surprising them both.

Inara swallowed carefully, averting her eyes from the intensity of his gaze. "I'm fine," she lied. "Why do you ask?" She turned away from the door, retreating into the shuttle's darkened interior.

Jayne took a step inside, not so easily deterred. "I'm askin' because you're back early," he said, reaching out to turn her back around.

"I didn't know I needed to account to you for my comings and goings," she said, pulling her elbow away from his grasp.

"Ya' don't," he answered evenly. "Was just worried about ya', is all." He turned to go, but was halted by the sound of her soft cries. Turning her completely to face him, he lifted her chin to see her tear-filled eyes. An instant rage roared through his chest, that someone should have made Inara cry this way.

Seeing the play of emotions in his burning blue eyes, Inara shook her head. "The client was fine. Everything was fine. He was…fine."

Feeling the muscles in Jayne's hands and forearms relax slightly, she went on. "It was just me, Jayne. I thought I was ready, but when I got there and he…I'm just not ready," she ended, her tears beginning to spill in earnest again.

Jayne pulled her into his arms and whispered into her hair, "It's all right, 'Nara. Nobody says ya' gotta be ready now." He rubbed her back with more tenderness than she would have imagined him capable of, all the while murmuring comfort as her sobs subsided.

When all that was left were occasional hiccups and sniffles, he carefully pulled himself away from her, instantly missing the feel of her warmth against his chest.

She pulled a tissue from a carefully concealed pocket, and dabbed daintily at her eyes. Something in the vulnerability of the gesture took Jayne's breath away. For once unaware of the reaction she was creating, Inara smiled weakly. "I really don't know why I did that just then," she said. "I rarely ever cry, but you seem to catch me at the oddest moments."

"Yeah, it's a gift," Jayne said dryly.

Inara sat down on her couch tiredly, gesturing for him to join her there. He stretched his legs out and rested his back against the cushions. They sat quietly for a few minutes, each struck by the strangeness of the situation. Finally, Jayne said, "So what'd he do?"

Inara began, "He didn't do…"

Jayne interrupted her protest. "No, what'd he do when you started to leave?"

Inara sighed. "He was very gracious. Told me to contact him when I'm here again."

Jayne nodded. "So, it ain't like you lost a client."

"No, I suppose not," Inara answered, wondering at the way Jayne's mind worked. "I haven't lost a client, just my…nerve, I guess."

Jayne looked at her, making a decision. "Dealin' with violence'll do some screwed up things to your head, 'Nara. I know, on account of I've been on the receivin' end of it a time or two."

"I'd guess that's to be expected in your line of work," Inara observed.

Jayne shook his head. "Weren't talkin' 'bout work. When I was just an overgrown boy tryin' to do the job of a man on Ma's place, a gang of regular hun dans rode in one day, takin' anthin' weren't nailed down, and terrorizin' the children and womenfolk. " He paused at the memory, amazed that it still had the power to make his mouth go dry. "Took the girl from the place next to ours. Name of Amy. Real pretty too. Dark hair and green eyes, filled out in all the right places. I was kinda' sweet on her. Her pa was sickly, and weren't no other man close enough to call for help."

Jayne shifted on the couch, and ran his hand over his jaw, beginning to regret starting the story. Inara sat watching the play of emotions on his face. "What happened then?" she asked very quietly.

Jayne sighed, resigned to see the story to its conclusion. "I got on Ma's old mule and tracked 'em down. When I got there, she was already cold. They'd got what they wanted, and slit 'er throat when they was done. When I saw that, I lost every bit of sense I had. Walked right into that camp like the smallest of 'em wasn't almost twice my size. Didn't even manage to get in a decent shot 'fore they was on me. Beat me near to death. Guess the only reason they didn't shoot me was they thought I weren't worth the bullet. When I woke up, they was long gone, and I was layin' next to Amy with enough broke bones to keep me from bein' any use for over a year. Ma liked ta' lost the place while I was laid up. Stupidest durn thing I ever did."

Inara looked at him, her eyes filled with both compassion and curiosity. "How did you get from that to being what you are?"

"You mean, intimidatin' and such?" he asked, frowning.

"No, I mean from being a victim to being the one with the power."

Jayne scratched his beard, considering the question. "Decided layin' in that bed that I didn't like feelin' all helpless and the like. Started thinkin' on improvin' my skills, buildin' up my body so's I could feel good in my skin again. Got back to doin' what needed doin'."

"That's what I was trying to do by choosing Mr. Harrison as my first client," Inara said, anguish and frustration in her voice. "I thought that if the first time was with a client I knew, I'd be able to go through with it. But I just couldn't." She looked up at Jayne sadly. "What can I do?"

The answer came to Jayne's lips before he could stop it. "Maybe you need to be with someone who ain't a client the first time."

They sat there staring at each other for a long moment. He was stunned he'd said the thought aloud, and she was stunned to actually be considering the validity of the statement.

They were interrupted by Zoe's voice coming through the comm system. "Jayne, wherever you are, get your pi gu down to the cargo bay ma shong. Mal just called."

Inara blinked slowly as Jayne rose to leave. "Gotta go," he said, tempted to touch her upturned face., but stopping the motion in midair.

"Yes, you do," Inara whispered, her heart beating with a strange rhythm as she watched him leave.

XXXXXXXXXX

To be continued


	4. Chapter 4

**Rock and a Hard Place**

**Part IV—Bound**

Author: justslummin

Disclaimer: I own none of these characters. I just play with 'em.

Rating: PG

Summary: Mal and Womack meet again.

XXXXXXXXXX

Womack landed his craft on the far side of the docks from where Serenity sat gleaming in the afternoon sun. Well aware of the crew's proclivity to carry serious firearms, he had no intention of trying to take Reynolds from the ship if he could help it. He assumed the ship was on Santo for business, figuring no one would go there strictly for pleasure. If there was business to be done, at some point Reynolds would leave the ship to do it. For the coin he'd been promised, Womack could wait.

Of course, he knew that Serenity had already been dirtside for awhile, so maybe his quarry was already off the ship. Either way, Womack had no concerns about his ability to capture the man sooner or later.

Blending into the small crowds on the docks, he soon spotted the tall soldier woman who'd held the mare's leg on him so steadily from Serenity's catwalk and the idiot who'd worn the god-awful hat maneuvering a mule through the dusty street. Assuming that was a lead worth following, he kept them within eyesight until they drove through the wide doors of an old warehouse about a kilometer from the docks. He was glad their trip had been no longer, as he was following on foot. He edged carefully up to the building, looking and listening for any trouble.

He could hear the slightly muffled sound of conversation between the man and woman.

"Why ain't Mal ever here when the loadin' starts?" the man said, grunting as he apparently hoisted something heavy into the mule.

The woman's voice was unruffled. "He'll be along in a bit. Quite a walk from the meet, ya' know."

Womack smiled. Being that Santo was not that large a settlement, he knew in all likelihood which route a man would use to get back to the warehouse. Walking along further down the street, he hid in a small alleyway that afforded him a decent view of two of the three most likely roads Reynolds would take to rendezvous with his people.

XXXXXXXXXX

Mal was enjoying the long walk to the warehouse where Zoe and Jayne were hopefully already loading the cargo. Monty's contact had been pleasant enough, though he did seem a mite peculiar. Mal couldn't quite figure why a man would request a meeting three kilometers out of town to discuss cargo sitting in a warehouse not one kilometer from the docks. But with half the coin for the job jangling pleasantly in his pocket, he decided a bit of a walk was not too much of an inconvenience.

Santo was not a mecca of modernization, but there were a few shops along the way that had various things of interest to Mal. Not one for window-shopping as a rule, he found himself drawn to the display in one particular store. He stopped to look briefly, admiring the beautifully carved rocker in the window. He could just picture River sitting in such a rocker holding their child close to her breast. Noting the price tag attached, he grimaced as the mental image faded somewhat. Sighing, he turned back down the street and saw the warehouse up ahead.

XXXXXXXXXX

Womack watched Reynolds with mild curiosity. It was obvious the man was in no hurry, meandering along looking at store-fronts. He looked relaxed and ripe for the taking, just as Womack had hoped.

As Mal walked past the alleyway, Womack slipped silently behind him, placing the barrel of his gun squarely in the small of Mal's back. Mal dropped his drawn gun back into his holster, easing his hand away slowly, having been not quite quick enough to turn to face his enemy. He wondered briefly about the price of his momentary distraction.

"Keep walkin' real easy into that alleyway," Womack said quietly. "I'd rather not do this in the middle of the street."

"You been transferred from Silverhold all the way to Santo, Womack?" Mal asked sarcastically. "If so, don't seem so much a promotion as a lateral move."

"Bi zui," Womack barked, wishing again he could just drop the man and turn in a corpse for the coin. "Keep walking."

Mal measured the distance between the entrance to the alleyway and the warehouse. Deciding now was not the right time to argue the point lest he end up with a gaping hole where his spinal column used to be, he moved forward into the shadows.

XXXXXXXXXX

"Oughta' be here by now," Jayne said, securing the last of the crates on the mule.

Zoe agreed. It was highly unusual for Mal to be late on the job and generally portended something unpleasant for the crew. However, knowing the Captain's mind as well as she knew her own, she climbed up into the mule, motioning Jayne to do the same. "Let's get the cargo stowed. If he ain't back by then, we'll come back to look."

Jayne nodded, and the mule jerked forward, straining under the weight of its load and heading for Serenity.

XXXXXXXXXX

The steady pounding in Mal's head and the annoying ringing in his ears reminded him of what had happened in the alley. Briefly puzzling over how Womack could have gotten him from the alleyway to what was apparently a small aircraft of some kind, he looked around to get his bearings. He assumed whoever Womack was working for this time wanted him alive, seeing as how he was lying on his side trussed up like livestock instead of being corpsified already. That was, at least, a plus.

Squinting in the dim light coming from the ship's console, he saw Womack at the helm talking to someone on a cortex link.

"Yes, I've got him already. We're headed to the station now. Should be there in five minutes." That information was less than useful to Mal, as he had no idea how long he'd been out. Womack reached to cut the transmission, and looked back to see his prisoner watching intently.

Mal thought about sitting up, but decided to save the energy it would require, bound as awkwardly as he was. He was fairly certain that he'd need all the energy he could muster soon enough.

"If you think I'm in possession of fancy body parts, you're sadly mistaken," he said, just to annoy the man.

Womack grimaced at the remark, not appreciating the reminder. "Nope, not looking for bits and pieces this time. Every last bit of you is wanted, it would seem," he said mildly.

Mal thought that didn't sound exactly encouraging. "And who is it wants me in one piece?" he asked.

Womack smiled nastily. "I'm a man of the law, Reynolds. I'm taking you in."

"Uh huh," Mal said, not aware of any outstanding warrants. "You're arresting me, huh?"

"Yup," Womack said, smiling widely.

"And you got a warrant, I assume?" Mal asked.

Womack triumphantly held up the warrant close enough that Mal could see his picture, but too far away for him to read. Noting with no small satisfaction the fleeting look of concern that crossed Mal's features, Womack said lazily, "I personally don't think the picture quite does you justice."

Mal ignored the comment. He found it difficult to believe that Womack was simply turning him over to some local yahoo to satisfy a warrant. He was also very curious to see what the warrant was for, considering the multitude of possible options. He stretched, surreptitiously checking for give in the bonds. He felt the ship's descent as Womack gave someone on the ground an authorization code for landing.

Within short minutes, Womack had released his ankles and hauled him up to his feet. Blinking in the sudden light of the sunset, Mal stepped out of the craft into the courtyard of what looked to be a fairly serious Fed station.

Womack smiled at his expression. "See, what'd I tell you? Just here to do my job."

Pulling Mal along by the elbow, Womack headed to a small building where a group of guards in Alliance uniforms stood ready to process their newest prisoner.

XXXXXXXXXX

Before the mule could get back to Serenity, Zoe's comm crackled to life. Hoping for Mal's voice, she heard River's instead. "Come now. Something's happened."

When they got to Serenity, they found Simon, Kaylee, and Inara standing on the bridge behind River, looking at something on the cortex screen.

"What's going on?" Zoe asked, all business.

"After we put Anya down for her nap, me and River was listening to the local government broadcasts like the Captain likes us to do when you're on the job," Kaylee began in a shaky voice. "And we found this." She pointed to the monitor.

On the screen was a newly issued warrant for the arrest of Malcolm Reynolds.

"Think he's been pinched?' Jayne asked.

Zoe replied, "If he has, we're humped. Look at the charges."

River, arms wrapped tightly around her body, recited them as if they were a nursery rhyme. "Murder, terrorist activity, treason."

"If this is right, he won't be held locally for trial," Simon said worriedly. "With the new laws passed after Miranda, everyone accused of treason is remanded to a military holding facility, to face charges before an Alliance tribunal."

Kaylee turned to look at her husband oddly. "How do you know that, honey?"

"Because there's a lot of public debate about the legality of the tribunals. Most who are tried don't return, and the government basically refuses to release any information about the disposition of the prisoners, citing security as the reason for the secrecy."

"Ain't we getting a little ahead of ourselves here?" Jayne asked. "Seems to me we don't even know for sure he's been arrested."

"Yes, we do," River said softly.

"You know something about this we can't see, River?" Zoe asked.

River shook her head. "Not really. Just that this warrant was issued twelve hours ago." She clicked a few buttons to reveal a new screen. "And it's not on the list of outstanding warrants now."

"Maybe it was originally issued in error, and has been rescinded," Inara offered.

"Were that the case," Zoe said grimly, "I expect the Captain would be standing here looking at it with us."

No one could argue the point. "So what are we going to do?" Inara asked.

"Find the nearest gorram Fed station," Zoe replied.

XXXXXXXXXX

Womack waited outside the administrator's office for the paperwork on his captive to be processed. It had given him great pleasure to see Reynolds swallowed up in the vast machinery of the Alliance penal system. He knew from the Senator where the unfortunate man was headed, and short of having the pleasure of killing him himself, Womack could think of nothing better than the fate that awaited him. For as much as he disliked Reynolds, he was well aware that certain factions within the system had good reason to hate him even more. Womack smiled at the thought.

XXXXXXXXXX

To Be Continued


	5. Chapter 5

**Rock and a Hard Place**

**Part V—Captive Audience**

Author: justslummin

Disclaimer: I own none of these characters. I just like to play with 'em.

Rating: PG

Summary: As the crew tries to find a way to spring the Captain, Mal begins to suspect he is in more trouble than usual.

XXXXXXXXXX

Zoe and Jayne were back on Serenity after surveying the new Fed Station on Santo, and the crew sat in the galley discussing their limited options.

"If'n he's still in there, we'd best be gettin' to the thrilling heroics pretty gorram quick," Jayne said grimly. "Once he's transferred out, that there'll add a whole 'nother degree of difficulty."

"Breaking him outta here don't look exactly like a walk in the park either," Zoe observed dryly.

They had heard, as had everyone with cortex access, that in the wake of the unrest caused by the Miranda broadcast the Alliance had beefed up security at all their installations. Unfortunately, unlike much of the government propaganda publicized, that report had apparently been true, at least on Santo.

"Well, there's gotta be some way in," Kaylee offered optimistically. "Just gotta find it is all."

River had managed to hack into the files of the governmental contractor who had built the new facility, and the crew pored over the schematics, looking for an entry point. River herself sat to the side of the table, staring blankly ahead. Simon glanced up at her every few minutes, concerned that she seemed to be disconnected from the situation. He was afraid that she was on the verge of a possible psychotic episode, a thing they could scarcely handle at the moment. The truth of the matter was that he had gotten out of the habit of dealing with her periods of madness, leaving it to Mal to handle. He was startled by the realization, the shift having occurred so gradually he'd barely noticed it in the regular series of crises that seemed to plague the crew.

Simon was right, River thought. She was teetering on the brink of madness, losing her grasp in the intensity of the thoughts and emotions of the crew around her. She clung to the thought that Mal was there, a steady presence still in her head. She sensed that whatever was happening to him, he was shielding from her with a measure of success, foolishly noble man that he was. When had he learned such a trick, she wondered, adding vague irritation to her overwhelming worry.

XXXXXXXXXX

"I'm pleased to finally meet you in person, Dr. Lee. Won't you come in?" the Senator invited pleasantly.

Stepping into the entryway of the Senator's rather posh apartment, Dr. Lee said, "It's a pleasure to meet you as well, Senator Holmes. Your brother always spoke so highly of you, and as you know from our recent discussions, I thought very highly of him."

Ezekiel Holmes nodded his head sadly. "Yes, almost all his colleagues thought well of Jeremiah. I believe the BlueSun Biochemical Division really prospered under his supervision."

"That it did," Dr. Lee agreed. "It was quite a blow when he was killed."

"To me as well," Senator Holmes said. Leading the scientist into a well-appointed study, he pursued small talk for just enough time to be considered courteous. Then he got to the point of the meeting.

"I assume your people are in place and ready to proceed with both experiments?" he asked.

Dr. Lee nodded. "There was some initial reluctance to being assigned work in a penal facility under such restricted conditions, but most of my staff is very eager to pursue this sort of research. Per your request, I have split my team into two sections, so that each may focus its attention on the objective of the experiment to which they are assigned."

"And the group continuing the protocol as set out by Jeremiah…are they up to speed and ready?"

"I am personally overseeing the research for that team," Dr Lee answered. "Regrettably, as you know, we could not reconstruct the raw data lost in the explosion at your brother's complex, but due to his meticulous nature, the backup files he sent to you for safekeeping have really provided all the information we need to reacquire the information lost. That is, of course, assuming you have access to the original test subject?"

Senator Holmes nodded. "He is, as we speak, sitting in a holding cell at the Fed Station on Santo, awaiting transfer to our facility. But, there will have to be a slight change in the protocol that I trust will not hinder the process. Reynolds has information on another matter entirely that we need to ascertain before he is subjected to your studies. As I understand, there is a possibility that once you succeed in retrieving the data you need, he may be useless to us."

"There is that distinct possibility," Dr Lee acknowledged.

"That being the case, I believe we should delay the procedure until you have a personal green light from me. Rest assured that I will be doing everything in my power to make him available to you as soon as possible."

"Not a problem," agreed Dr Lee. "Truth be told, I'm just happy that Parliament has agreed to fund the research jointly with BlueSun. That will make our job considerably easier."

Senator Holmes smiled thinly. "Jeremiah was a man of vision. Luckily, I am a more practical man. After persuading the committee of the viability of pursuing the second phase of the Academy Project, it was a relatively simple matter to include funding for this project as well, being as how the purpose of the two dovetails nicely." He paused for a moment, and then added as if it were an afterthought, "Did your man get to Santo yet?"

Dr. Lee answered, "He's there, awaiting my instructions."

"Good," the Senator said. "That's at least one loose end we can tidy up right away. I'll set it up."

XXXXXXXXXX

Mal sat handcuffed to a bar running the length of the holding cell in the Fed Station. He was beginning to feel a great sense of unease skittering along his spine, as he took note of the efficiency of the security measures in place there. While part of him longed to see Zoe and Jayne burst through the door, weapons drawn and corpses strewn in their wake, the rational part of his brain knew such a thing would be suicide for them.

And if Zoe couldn't accomplish it, he was fairly certain he had not a chance in hell of effecting his own escape unless maybehaps the entire staff of the facility took a long lunch together and all the power went out while they where gone. Or maybe that guardian angel his ma used to tell stories of would come back from his extended vacation to pay attention to Mal's life again, he thought wryly. Short of those miracles occurring, Mal conjured he was in for a long wait.

Perhaps more unsettling than the beefed-up security was the fact that no one, in the entire process, had volunteered what he was charged with. Mal was no stranger to being hauled into various law enforcement facilities for questioning or even booking, depending on the energy level of the officials on any number of worlds spinning. But heretofore, he'd always known why he was being held.

However, no one here was talking. In fact, even that was troubling in itself. After Womack had turned him in, no one had said anything at all to him other than where to sit or stand. It was all manner of peculiar, and strangely more disheartening than if he had been brutally interrogated. So, he sat listening to the monotonous ticking of an old-style clock hanging outside the cell, and wondering what the di yu was really going on.

XXXXXXXXXX

Per the Senator's instructions, Womack sat in the back booth of the seedy little bar, watching a less than stimulating game of pool between two inebriated slavers on a layover. Thinking that as soon as he got the coin for turning Reynolds in he'd leave this crappy little planet, he saw the person who had to be the Senator's aide glancing around the smoky bar in search of him.

Womack rose to his feet to make the little man's job easier. Man couldn't look anymore out of place, he thought derisively, taking in the dandified suit and the weird accessories.

Approaching the table, the man asked stiffly, "Are you Lt. Womack?"

Womack rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I'm him. Have a seat."

"Thank you," the man answered without even a hint of a smile.

"Wanna drink?" Womack asked when the man just sat there.

"No, I do not."

Womack frowned. "Then you wanna get on with it? I got places to be, things to do, you know."

"Of course," the strange man said, putting a small case he carried on the sticky tabletop. As he moved to open it, Womack asked, 'What's the matter? You got a skin condition or something?"

The man smiled just a little then. "Why do you ask?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Womack snorted. "What's with the gloves?"

The man answered easily, as he pulled a small cylindrical object from the case. "They protect me from certain…undesirable reactions," he said, doing something which made the little cylinder glow with a blue light.

Womack's head instantly felt like a melon ripe to the point of bursting. Pressing his hand to his eye, he felt a hot trickle of blood drip from his nose, and then, to his consternation, two mirroring trickles from his eyes.

"What the…" were the last coherent words he spoke, as the dapper little man with blue gloves watched calmly.

XXXXXXXXXX

'Now maybe we're getting somewhere,' Mal thought, as he watched the approach of two guards.

"Stand up," the larger of the two said.

Mal complied, alert for any opportunity to better his situation.

The other guard drew his weapon and trained it squarely on Mal's chest, as the first one uncuffed his hands. Twisting Mal's arms behind his back, the guard put the cuffs back on, tightening them just a fraction too tight for comfort. When that was accomplished to their satisfaction, the second guard reholstered his weapon.

Each taking one elbow, they marched Mal back past the booking area and to the entrance of the small building. Sitting a hundred yards away was a sight that made Mal's hackles rise, an Alliance prisoner transport vessel, bristling with all manner of destructive weaponry.

Heart beating a little more rapidly in his chest, Mal knew that once he got in that ship, the possibility of escape went from slim straight to none. As the guards pulled him forward, he instinctively dragged his feet, putting off the inevitable. He was rewarded for his efforts by a sharp jab to his side from the second guard.

"Move along," the guard said. "This transport came just for you, and you're not going to keep it waiting."

As Mal was forced into the holding area of the transport and cuffed to a bench there, he thought how very creepifying it was to hear that the ship had come just for him. Things were like to get all manner of unpleasant, he thought grimly.

XXXXXXXXXX

To be continued

Author's Note: For those who are coming to the story late, the back story on Jeremiah Holmes and his aborted experiment can be found in "Hostages to Fortune".


	6. Chapter 6

**Rock and a Hard Place**

**Part VI—Friends and Enemies**

Author: justslummin

Disclaimer: I own none of these characters. I just like to play with 'em.

Rating: PG

Summary: The Operative checks in, and Mal spends his first night in prison.

XXXXXXXXXX

No matter how they went over it, Zoe knew there was no way to breach security at the Fed station that wouldn't be suicide. She, Jayne, and River were the only ones left who were any use with a gun, and Zoe was fairly certain Mal would kill her himself if she let River anywhere close to a weapon pregnant and on the verge of psychosis.

Looking around the table, she saw the same realization on every face. Knowing that everyone was waiting for her to make the decision, she took a deep breath and opened her mouth to speak, only to be interrupted by the beep of an incoming wave. Sprinting up to the bridge, she was disappointed to see the impassive face of the Operative staring back from the cortex screen. She realized that, unconsciously, she had been hoping for the miracle of Mal's face instead. Inwardly cursing the fates, she said, "Thought we'd seen the last of you for awhile."

The Operative said, "As did I. I need to speak immediately with Captain Reynolds."

"He ain't here," Zoe answered, volunteering nothing more.

"I assure you that he will want to hear what I have to say," the Operative persisted.

"Be that as it may, he ain't available."

"Then let me speak with Mrs. Reynolds. It is a matter of some urgency."

Zoe started to refuse the request, but River was already behind her looking at the screen. "What do you want?" River asked, noting the Operative's worry.

"I have information for Captain Reynolds concerning the existence of a second facility like the one on Osiris. It is as we feared. According to my source here, the lab has been set up, and the staff is nearly ready to proceed with the experiment. We need to move quickly. I must speak with your husband as soon as possible. Can you tell me where he is?"

River looked at him intently, trying to discern with absolute certainty both the truth of his words and the motive behind them. Zoe looked from the screen to River's face with consternation. After a pause that seemed like an eternity but was actually only moments, River said, "Captain Reynolds has been arrested for treason."

The Operative blinked slowly, a testament to his self-control. "When did this happen?"

"This afternoon," River answered quietly, gripping the back of the pilot's chair with white knuckles.

"So, it's possible he's still on Santo," the Operative said, thinking aloud. "I am to meet the contact in a local tavern within the hour to get the location of the new laboratory. I had hoped that Captain Reynolds could accompany me, as I am less than sure of the situation."

"I'm sure he'd be happy to babysit you if he weren't sitting in a cell in the most gorram secure Fed Station I've ever seen on a Rim world," Zoe said heatedly. "That's of course assumin' he hasn't already been shipped out." 

"Which would potentially be a wrong assumption if the charge is treason," the Operative said. "Recent laws enacted now dictate that those arrested for terrorist acts or treason be removed from the general prison population and remanded to penal colonies immediately to…" He paused, looking almost sympathetically at River.

"So that they can be interrogated using whatever force is necessary to achieve the desired results," River finished flatly.

"Exactly so," the Operative said. "It is possible I can discover whether the Captain is still on Santo, and if he is not, where he may be headed. But as I have stated, I must meet with the contact within the hour to ascertain the new lab location. I regret I cannot accomplish both things at once."

River looked hopefully at Zoe. "Do you have any other way to find out where Mal is?" she asked.

Zoe shook her head miserably. Turning to the Operative, she asked, "If I go with you to meet the contact, you'll help us find the Captain?"

The Operative nodded. "I will indeed. I have no wish to see further harm come to your Captain or your crew. And besides," he added, almost smiling. "I'd imagine I will be in need of some assistance once I know where the new facility is. I doubt security there will be as lacking as it was on Osiris."

Zoe glanced at River, who nodded almost imperceptibly. "Where do I meet you?" she said, hoping that River was right.

XXXXXXXXXX

Mal studied the stars intently as the transport ship landed, but the configurations were unfamiliar, so he had no idea where in the 'verse he was. However, he had no trouble ascertaining into what kind of facility he was being unceremoniously herded.

High electrified fences topped by obscene amounts of razor wire ran farther into the distance that he could see, enclosing a huge prison complex that looked eerily similar to the internment camp where he and Zoe had spent hellish months after the war.

Involuntarily shuddering at the memory, he realized that this was the sort of place where the Alliance kept prisoners who had no hope in hell of ever going home. With that morbid thought rolling around in his head, he was pushed into a holding cell and ordered to sit. 

Within minutes, two uniformed men stepped into the cell, one about Mal's size and the other uncommonly large and menacing. Neither spoke, and for once, Mal thought it best to maintain his silence as well. The cell door opened again to reveal yet another uniformed man, this one apparently an Alliance officer. Flipping through a data pad, he asked, "You are Malcolm Reynolds, correct?"

"Yes," Mal answered.

Making a note on the pad, the man continued, "I am Colonel William Walker. This facility is under my command." He put his pad down and looked directly at Mal. "While you are here, that means that your life is in my hands. I have a zero-tolerance policy for inappropriate behavior of any sort. Is that understood?"

Mal looked at him steadily, thinking that he sounded like he'd watched too many bad prison vids on the cortex. "Yes," he said.

"Yes sir, you mean," the Colonel replied. "That will be your last reminder as to how to address personnel at this facility. Do you have any questions?"

"Yes sir," Mal answered, emphasizing the 'sir'. "Why am I being held here? I seem to have skipped the whole due process and trial thing to end up in your fine facility."

The larger guard stepped forward immediately, but Colonel Walker stopped him from his purpose. "You are here," he answered coldly, "because we have the distinction of being the last stop before hell for treasonous scum such as yourself ."

Nodding to the guard, the Colonel stood back casually as the large man swung his club viciously into Mal's side.

"Any other questions?" he asked.

XXXXXXXXXX

Zoe and the Operative approached the entrance to the tavern, somewhat concerned by the lack of noise coming from the establishment. Stepping into the dimly lit interior, they were greeted by a horrific sight. People lay sprawled in all directions in large pools of blood. Examining the bodies, they found no wounds of any kinds.

"I've seen this before," the Operative said in the absolute silence of the room, as he located his dead contact.

"I didn't see it, but I've heard about it," Zoe said. "Some of your former workmates, maybe?"

"No," the Operative replied. "The private sector, actually. BlueSun employees, unless I miss my guess."

Zoe stared at him, somewhat startled by the thought. "Why would an employee of BlueSun Corporation come to this particular seedy bar on this particular planet and wipe out everyone here, do you think?"

"I can only assume they came to stop my meeting, which means they are somehow involved in the new phase of the Academy Project, I assume."

As he answered, Zoe continued to look around, finding Womack in a back booth. "I know this one," she said. "Crooked fed, likes to play bounty hunter on his days off."

The Operative raised his eyebrows. "Bounty hunter?" he asked. "Could he have been here in search of your Captain?"

"Would be a helluva coincidence if he just happened to be here on Santo at the same time for something unrelated," Zoe said dryly.

"I don't believe in coincidence," the Operative said. "However, I suppose it hardly matters at this point. Regardless of the how and why, the Captain is incarcerated and I have lost the only contact on this world who could tell me the location of the laboratory. It would seem that now we are both at a loss."

"You plannin' to just walk away without helpin' the Captain?" Zoe asked, a dangerous edge in her voice.

"To the contrary, I intend to do everything I can to help you find him. If the evidence of BlueSun's involvement here means what I think it means, I'll have need of your Captain and anyone else I can convince to help me," the Operative said grimly.

XXXXXXXXXX

Mal came back to consciousness with a pounding head and a body that ached all over. Colonel Walker had allowed the two guards to demonstrate the seriousness of his words with brutal efficiency. Mal sighed as he stretched slightly, noting the mottled reds and blues of newly forming bruises on his pale skin.

Somewhere along the way, he'd been stripped out of his clothes and thrown into the cell he now occupied. It was a small cell, no more than five by five, making it impossible for Mal to stretch out comfortably in any direction.

He sat up, wincing as the muscles of his back and shoulders, which had taken the brunt of the abuse, protested. He had the fleeting thought that he was getting too old for this kind of go se, and too old to sit bare-assed in a gorram stone-cold cell as well. He looked around and to his relief saw a prison uniform folded neatly in the corner. Standing carefully, he padded over to it and skipped the offensive garment gingerly over his head. Though the material was flimsy at best and the shirt had short sleeves, at least it was a little protection against the chill of the stones. Surveying the tiny space again, Mal saw nothing else to better his situation. He sank down to the floor, hugging his knees to his chest to conserve what body heat he could, though the position caused a painful burning between his shoulder blades.

Abruptly, the glaring light of the cell turned into pitch blackness, and so Mal, exhausted physically and mentally from the trials of the past day, rested his head on his arms and tried to sleep, willing himself not to think about what tomorrow might bring.

XXXXXXXXXX

To be continued


	7. Chapter 7

**Rock and a Hard Place**

**Part VII—The Interrogation**

Author: justslummin

Disclaimer: I own none of these characters. I just like to play with 'em.

Rating: PG

Summary: The Operative gets some information, and Mal meets his inquisitor.

XXXXXXXXXX

Zoe climbed down into her bunk, her mind heavy with the burden of upcoming decisions. Anya sat up in bed, rubbing her little fists into her eyes and yawning widely.

"Did ya' find Captain Mal yet, Mama?" she asked sleepily.

Zoe sighed. "No, child. Captain Mal's not back yet."

Anya frowned. "He's gotta get back real soon. He already missed lunch and supper, and he's bound to be getting' kinda' hungry by now. And sleepy too," she added in concern.

Zoe swallowed back the half-sob that the little girl's words had evoked. "He'll be back soon's he can," she said, smoothing Anya's blond hair back from her face. "But it will be a bit longer than we thought, I imagine."

Zoe lay down beside her, and Anya instantly snuggled into her side. "Was that Miss River hollerin'?" she asked curiously.

"Yes, it was, but Miss River is okay now," Zoe lied.

"Is the baby okay too?" Anya asked, her eyes wide with new worry.

"The baby's fine," Zoe assured her, hoping that it was true. "Now hush and go on back to sleep. I'm tired, little one."

Anya said nothing more, and in just a few minutes, Zoe knew she had returned to slumber. Envying the ability of the innocent to sleep so easily, Zoe stared at the ceiling and reviewed the events of the last several hours.

The Operative had assured her that he could get the information they sought, but could give her no guarantees as to how long they would have to wait for it. When she had returned to Serenity, the crew had been dismayed by the news she had, but River had been the most affected. As soon as Zoe had described the scene at the tavern, River began screaming and crying, losing her tenuous hold on sanity. Though she'd long since been drugged carefully into a stupor by Simon, Zoe could still her vague mutterings of the phrase she'd kept repeating in some horrible loop until she'd been sedated into unconsciousness. "Blue hands, purple bellies, red blood, silver needles, black purpose." The last time, Zoe had heard even a portion of those words, Mal had ended up strapped to a table by the hun dans at BlueSun. This did not bode well for any of them. Frustrated by the forced inactivity of her situation, she tried not to dwell on all the possibilities of Mal's predicament.

XXXXXXXXXX

Kaylee lay in bed, praying for her Captain's safe return and waiting anxiously for Simon to come. He was still in the Captain's bunk with River, watching over his mei mei as he'd always done. Kaylee ached with worry for him, and wished for some way to ease the burden with which he had been saddled for so long. She knew he did not resent the time and attention River's precarious state demanded, and she really didn't either, except for the emotional toll it took on her husband.

Seeing him descend their ladder quietly, she rose to greet him at the bottom rung. "Hey you," she said softly, taking his hands in her own.

Simon smiled, exhausted but relieved to have Kaylee near. "Hey yourself," he said, as he placed a soft kiss on her forehead.

"River sleepin'?"

"For now," he replied. "The last thing I gave her should help her sleep until morning, if she's lucky."

"Maybe we'll know somethin' 'bout the Cap'n by then," Kaylee said hopefully.

"Perhaps," Simon said reluctantly. "But Kaylee, he's …well, he's beyond our reach. Those accused by the government of treason don't even get a trial anymore. Or an advocate of any kind. I can't imagine anything we can do to free him without risking the lives of everyone here. And I don't think Zoe can either."

He pulled Kaylee closer to him, and they stood, drawing strength from each other in the darkness.

XXXXXXXXXX

The sound of his cell door opening startled Mal into wakefulness. Two new guards jerked him to his feet, and cuffed his hands and legs, wrapping the connecting chain about his waist. Wondering idly where in hell they thought he was like to run gave him a slight moment of amusement, but it was ended abruptly by the strike of one of the guards' clubs between his already battered shoulders.

Fighting his natural inclination to wrap his manacled hands around the nearest neck and relieve its owner of his last breath, Mal walked in the direction indicated, shuffling slightly because of the leg chains. He was led to a brightly lit room with a table and two chairs, one drawn up to either side. It looked basically like any number of interrogation rooms he'd seen, with a few troubling exceptions.

He noted as he was shackled to the chair that the floor tilted slightly toward a drain in the middle of the room. As the guards left and the door clicked shut behind them, he tried not to imagine exactly why there would be need of a drain in the floor. Glancing up at the ceiling, he saw bars of various heights running the length of the room and anchored securely into the walls, which also held rings and hooks of various kinds embedded in the stone. Seeing that this was not a typical garden-variety type of interrogation room did nothing for his mood. Nor did the row of wicked looking instruments laid out precisely on the table in front of him, gleaming in the harsh light.

He was no stranger to interrogation techniques, and knew that all of these things he was seeing were designed to demoralize the subject before the session even began. Unfortunately, knowing that fact did little to lessen the impact.

Mal waited for a long while in the absolute silence of the room, the only sound being the occasional rumbling of his stomach. He realized that breakfast the day before had been his last meal, and that the last drink he'd had was sometime in the mid-morning. Trying not to think about his parched lips, he distracted himself by puzzling over exactly which treasonous crime had landed him in this place, the Miranda Wave, the harboring of known fugitives, or the destruction of the lab on Osiris. Or hell, maybe it was all three. He'd have to wait and see.

The door opened and a rather small, smartly dressed man entered the room, followed by yet another set of heavily-muscled guards. The small man approached the table and sat down primly, facing Mal.

"Mr. Reynolds," he began in a pleasant tone. "I am Thomas McKinley, and I have been assigned the task of retrieving certain information from you. Having reviewed your records, I can only assume that you are well-familiar with interrogation techniques and the like. So, rather than waste time and energy, why don't we simply go through the questions together. I'll ask and you answer. Really quite easy, and not at all painful." With the last words, he peered over his glasses pointedly at the instruments laid out before Mal.

Somehow, his benign tone made Mal much more uneasy than he would have been had his inquisitor come into the room in a more threatening manner. McKinley continued, "Before we begin, is there anything you require?"

Mal eyed the man suspiciously, weighing his response. "A glass of water would be appreciated."

"Of course." McKinley motioned to a guard, who filled a small cup and held it to Mal's lips, as the cuffs on his wrists did not allow him movement.

"That better?' McKinley asked when he had drained the cup.

"Yes, thank you."

"You're welcome, Mr. Reynolds. Shall we begin? It is my understanding that before your incarceration here, you captained a Firefly vessel. Serenity, I believe the name was. Is that correct?"

"Yes."

"And your crew?"

When Mal did not answer, one of the guards stepped closer. McKinley peered over his glasses, his eyes not quite as friendly as before. "Mr. Reynolds, I must advise you to answer the questions I put to you quickly and truthfully. How many people serve on your crew?"

Mal did not answer. McKinley glanced at the guard standing now directly behind the chair. Mal's body jerked violently against the restraints as a jolt of liquid fire raced through his muscles. McKinley waited out the residual tremors until his prisoner quit gasping, then said calmly, "Let's move on to something else for a bit. We'll revisit this topic soon enough."

Mal wondered what type of instrument could cause such pain so quickly, but he did not have much time to consider it before McKinley pulled a capture out of his suit jacket and placed it in front of Mal on the table. Seeing that it was the security feed from the laboratory on Osiris, Mal cursed inwardly, now all too aware of why he was being held.

McKinley asked calmly, "Where is this man?", as he pointed to the Operative.

Mal was struck by the irony of the fact that he was likely to be tortured to protect, of all the people in the gorram 'verse, the Operative. So, he smiled thinly at McKinley and answered, "I don't even know his name, and you expect me to have his address?"

McKinley shook his head sadly as Mal writhed in agony under the device in the guards' hand. "I can see this is going to be a long day for both of us, Mr. Reynolds."

XXXXXXXXXX

On the fourth day after the Captain's arrest, the Operative finally found the information he sought. He sat in Serenity's galley, briefing the crew. "He's being held in a maximum security facility on Salisbury."

"I didn't know there was a maximum security prison on Salisbury," Zoe said.

"There was not, until after the new terrorist laws were passed. Apparently it was decided that Salisbury was an ideal location for transporting prisoners quickly from several Rim worlds. But much like the new Fed Station here, because the facility is new, it employs the best security technology available in the 'verse. This will, of course, present a problem."

Jayne snorted at the understatement, but Zoe's glare stopped him from voicing his thought.

"There is one bright spot, however," the Operative said. "If my source is correct, the complex also houses a state-of-the-art laboratory."

"And this is good how?" Simon asked snidely.

"I believe that this may be where your sister's genetic material is currently stored. If I am correct, that means that we should be able to effect your Captain's release and destroy the lab facility at the same time."

"Yeah, and then we'll go to fairyland and live happily ever after," Jayne said.

Zoe interrupted him. "You got a plan?" she asked the Operative.

He nodded. "Yes, I believe I do. But we'll need help beyond this crew. I hope that Dr. Tam will be able to secure it for us."

"Me?" Simon asked, startled. "How can I do that?"

"We'll need to get in touch with the underground movement that helped you free your sister from the Academy. For obvious reasons, they will not deal directly with me. I will need you to act as a liaison of sorts."

The table fell silent, as Simon stared incredulously at the Operative.

XXXXXXXXXX

Mal awoke in the glaringly bright light of the interrogation room. Hanging naked and bleeding by his wrists from one of the bars attached to the walls, he saw that his situation had not improved even slightly. He had learned all too well in the past three days how each of the instruments on the table could be used most effectively on a body, and had watched his own blood flow freely down the drain in the floor.

For the moment, he was blessedly alone. He thought bitterly that he would never get to see River's body grow and expand to accommodate the new life she carried, nor would he live to see his child born. Tamping down the anguish the thought caused, he steeled himself as he heard the door open once again and saw the impassive face of his tormentor.

"Let's try that again, shall we?" McKinley said, advancing into the room.

XXXXXXXXXX

To be continued


	8. Chapter 8

**Rock and a Hard Place**

**Part VIII—The Plan**

Author: justslummin

Disclaimer: I own none of these characters. I just like to play with 'em.

Rating: PG

Summary: The Operative's plan begins to come together, and so do Jayne and Inara.

XXXXXXXXXX

Inara sat in her shuttle, the smell of incense soothing her jangled nerves. The events of her recent appointment with Aaron Harrison and her concern for Mal's safety combined to make meditation essential to her sense of well-being. So far, she was an hour into the process, and still she felt her nerves were stretched to the point of snapping. So, when she heard the gentle knock at her door, her first reaction was vague irritation at the interruption.

"Ching jin," she called, masking her annoyance. To her surprise, Zoe entered.

"Sorry to disturb you at this late hour," Zoe said, noting the incense and Inara's posture on the floor.

"That's quite all right," Inara replied, gracefully seating herself on the couch. "Won't you have a seat?"

Zoe walked into the room, something in her stride reminding Inara painfully of Mal. She sat down on the couch and turned to face Inara. Suddenly ill at ease, Inara searched Zoe's pained expression for the reason for the unusual visit.

Zoe, with typical efficiency, came right to the point. "As you know, I've been talking to the Operative for some time tonight about his plan to retrieve the Captain."

Inara nodded. "And how does it seem to you? Can it work?"

"Not sure just yet. But even if it does, it won't be a walk in the park by any means," Zoe answered honestly. "That's why I need to talk to you."

"Of course," Inara said. "What can I do to help?"

"We're gonna be goin' into the most secure Alliance prison that's ever been built, and I need you to take Anya somewhere safe before we go. I can't do what I have to do knowin' she's in harm's way. Dong ma?"

Inara stared at Zoe, open-mouthed in shock. "But I don't understand. I want to help get Mal released. You need me here, don't you?"

Zoe looked at her steadily. "No offense, Inara. I know you held your own with us on Mr. Universe's world. But you ain't a warrior by nature. For that matter, neither is Kaylee, but we'll need her on the inside. So, I'm askin' you to do this one thing for me. I trust you to protect the child."

Inara thought for a moment. "Perhaps I could take her to the Training House. She'd have Guild protection there."

"No, I don't think you'll be safe there. If something goes wrong on Salisbury, I wouldn't trust your Guild not to turn you over to the Alliance. Besides, we're not going to have time to go to Sihnon."

"Where do you want me to go with her, then?" Inara asked.

"We need more coin than we got to get the supplies we'll need to carry out the rescue. So, first light tomorrow, we're headed to finish the job we started. Gonna drop the cargo on Greenleaf, as the Captain agreed. Harvest ain't but a few days from there, and Kaylee thinks her folks would take you and Anya in. I'll leave you with the shuttle, case you need to get ahold of us by wave, or get away from Harvest quickly if someone should come looking for you." Noting Inara's worried expression, she added, "I ain't ever asked you for anything, Inara, but I'm askin' now. I need you to see to my baby girl."

"Do you think she'll want to come with me?" Inara asked. "We haven't exactly bonded yet."

"She'll come because she'll have no choice," Zoe said firmly. "I aim to keep her safe, and you're my best shot at that, dong ma?"

"Yes," Inara said. "I'll take her, Zoe. And I'll keep her safe."

Zoe stood and shook Inara's hand as if sealing a deal. "I know you will," she said, as she turned to go.

XXXXXXXXXX

Senator Holmes looked at McKinley in irritation. Having arrived moments before at the facility, he was expecting to hear more conclusive answers from the man standing before him. He looked again at the security feed from the interrogation room. Reynolds lay on the floor, apparently unconscious, having finally been lowered from his hanging position.

"How is it that in five days of what you have termed 'intensive interrogation', you have still not managed to get any meaningful information?" the Senator asked coldly.

McKinley replied just as coldly. "Reynolds is an unusually hard man. And you yourself made it abundantly clear that we were not to do anything that would result in his death, lest we lose our jobs. That instruction kept us from pushing quite as aggressively as we might have."

Senator Holmes looked more carefully at the tortured body of the man on the floor. He shuddered to think what 'pushing more aggressively' would have entailed. McKinley continued, "He's been in and out of consciousness since yesterday anyway. Interrogation of this sort is basically useless at this point, unless you consider it pleasurable in some way."

The Senator glared at him. "What type of man do you think I am?"

"I'm sure I don't know, sir," McKinley answered blandly.

Holmes looked at him in disgust. "Put him back in his cell. As soon as he's alert, we'll take another route to find our answers. A route that won't be quite so easy to resist."

XXXXXXXXXX

For once unable to sleep, Jayne lay in his bunk, thinking that his part in the Operative's sketchy plan was likely to get him killed soon enough. While he'd had a fair share of concern about some of Mal's more colorful plans, he knew the Captain would have never agreed to a plan quite as ambitious, or more accurately foolhardy, as the Operative's seemed to be. Pure suicide, he thought, hating the idea of going down in an Alliance prison.

But he knew, deep in his belly, that he would follow the plan and try to make it work because it was the only way he could see to free Mal. And he suspected he wouldn't be able to live with himself if he didn't at least try to do that. Cursing the attachments he'd developed on Serenity, he got up and started rummaging around for a semi-clean shirt. Maybe a little food would better his chances of sleeping well.

Before he could find the shirt, he heard the sound of his hatch opening. Grabbing a knife from his arsenal, he looked up to see who the intruder could be. To his surprise, Inara's tiny slippers appeared on the top rung. He hastily threw his knife aside, and watched her descend, like some angel of his fantasies, into his bunk.

"You lost, 'Nara?" he asked casually.

"Most probably," she replied, looking at him with a slight smile gently curving her lips.

Jayne swallowed thickly, wondering what those lips might taste like, and oddly eager to break his no-kissing rule should the opportunity arise.

"Couldn't sleep," Inara said. "I thought I might find you in the galley, but since you weren't there, I decided to…"

"Come find me," Jayne finished, rooted to the floor.

"Is that all right?" Inara asked, suddenly unsure of her own purpose in coming.

"You can come to me any time you want, Inara," Jayne said, his voice low and straining for calm.

Inara stared up at him for a long moment. "I believe you mean that, Jayne Cobb," she finally said.

"That I do," Jayne answered simply.

"What you said in my shuttle after I came back from my appointment…did you mean it? Were you offering me your…services?"

Jayne scowled at the word choice. "Don't know as I've got any 'services' to offer," he answered. "Wouldn't exactly be a business deal to me."

Inara faltered, disheartened by his response. "I didn't mean to imply that it would. I just…I think I need…I want to…"

Jayne closed the distance between them, and pulling her forcefully to him, kissed her like he had been waiting his whole life to find just this pair of lips.

When Inara was truly breathless and he was a little winded himself, he let her go abruptly. She stood there, her head spinning dizzily and her heart hammering faster than healthy, as he started to smile lazily.

"That what you want, Inara?" he challenged ever so softly.

Inara's eyes burned brightly as she looked up to meet his gaze. "I think maybe it is," she whispered in amazement. Regaining a small portion of her normal composure, she said, "But you understand it's not…"

Jayne interrupted her. "I understand exactly what it's not, 'Nara. Ain't lookin' for somethin' you ain't givin'. We got an understandin' here?" His blue eyes flashed with a fire she'd never seen there before.

"Yes, I believe we do," she said, biting her lower lip.

"Then come here," Jayne said, holding out his hand to guide her to his bed.

XXXXXXXXXX

The Operative sat in one of Serenity's passenger dorms, mapping out his plan in greater detail. He could tell from the reactions of Serenity's crew that they were less than confident about the operation, and he wanted to ensure that it went as smoothly as possible under the circumstances.

Dr. Tam was attempting to contact the people who had originally given him the information to retrieve his sister, but so far, his success was somewhat limited. The Operative knew that they would have to actually travel to Osiris is get anyone in the underground movement to agree to help them. Since Zoe had already made the decision that they would make a stop on Greenleaf and then Harvest, Osiris was at least another week away.

And this troubled the Operative. He knew well enough what could happen to a man in an Alliance prison in a week. Added to that was the knowledge that BlueSun's involvement made it more likely that the second generation of the Academy Project would be up and running well before he could stop it at this rate. And what horrors that would hold for the Captain, the Operative did not even want to try to fathom. Shuddering at the thought, he turned his attention back to his work, trying to see anything he'd missed that would bring success to this venture.

XXXXXXXXXX

River sat on the bridge, knowing it was unnecessary as they were still dirtside on Santo. Simon's drugs made her feel as if her head was filled with cotton, and they muffled the outside world almost to the point of obscurity. But River knew that he meant well when he made her sleep, still not understanding the horrors it evoked in her. She knew also that she had to regain control if she was to find her ai ren and bring him home to safety.

She was vaguely aware of the outline of the Operative's plan, but until she could manage to rein in her demons, she knew she could not hope to understand it thoroughly.

Splaying her fingers across her abdomen, she searched her mind for a trace of Mal's child. Just the barest of whispers told her what she needed to know. The baby was well, and had not, as she had feared, been harmed during her distress.

She reached down further, hoping to hear something from Mal deep down at the very core of her. Where she had sensed before that he was shielding himself from her somehow, now she sensed no such hiding. And yet, though he was definitely there, she could discern nothing concrete from their connection. Perhaps he was too far away, or the drugs were interfering with her abilities, she thought distractedly. Hugging her knees to her chest, she stared into the Black, holding on to the slender thread that would lead her to Mal.

XXXXXXXXXX

To be continued


	9. Chapter 9

**Rock and a Hard Place**

**Part IX—En Route**

Author: justslummin

Disclaimer: I own none of these characters. I just like to play with 'em.

Rating: R

Summary: Mal's situation changes, and the crew gets closer to their goal.

XXXXXXXXXX

Inara slipped her tiny hand into Jayne's much larger one, her heart pounding like a novice with her first appointment. As he turned to pull the rough blanket from the bed and straighten the tangled sheets, she watched in fascination the play of muscles under the smooth skin of his back. She was accustomed to men whose power resided in their wealth or prominence, but the pure physicality of Jayne was power of another sort entirely. And to her surprise, instead of feeling threatened or diminished by it, she felt strangely invigorated, as if Jayne's strength was being channeled directly into her with his slightest touch. The sensation was intoxicating after the powerlessness she had felt since Wing's attack.

Jayne turned to face her, something hungry and elemental in his eyes. Fingering the silk robe she wore, he pulled its belt slowly off, giving her time to object if she wished. When no objection was forthcoming, he slipped his hands beneath the open robe, sliding it carefully from her shoulders to pool around her feet. Pleased to see she'd worn nothing beneath it, he stepped back to admire the view.

Inara had never been embarrassed about her body. There was no need. She knew from the appreciative reactions of the clients she'd bedded that she was pleasing to the eye. So, she stood still, allowing Jayne's eyes to rake over her form, and feeling a flush of triumph when she heard a low whistle escape his lips. "You're a picture, right enough," he said, pulling her closer again.

She slipped her slim fingers into the waistband of his pants, causing his breath to become ragged against her neck, as she helped him out of the encumbrance of his own clothes. He lifted her easily and laid her on his bed with a tenderness that surprised them both. Lying down gently beside her, he began a slow exploration of her body, his strong hands trailing fire along every inch of skin he touched. Inara lay still, watching those hands in fascination. She thought of the violence those hands were capable of, and the gentleness of their touch now seemed that much more profound for the knowledge. Arching her back as he touched a particularly sensitive spot, she whimpered in pleasure.

Jayne watched her reaction, making note of the spot for future reference. Trailing his mouth along the lines his hands had traveled, he learned quickly how much he enjoyed the sweet taste of her skin. She began to tremble beneath his lips, and her breath started to come in quiet pants. She moved to touch him in turn, but he stilled the motion of her hands, pulling them up and away from his body. "First one's for you," he said, his voice a low growl against her ear, as he parted her thighs and moved between them with a supple grace.

Inara froze, her body suddenly tight as a bowstring. Realizing that pinning her hands only that little bit had brought back a terrible memory, Jayne released them immediately, and lifted his weight from her. Looking into the bottomless depths of her eyes, he inwardly cursed his thoughtless action. "Your hands can always roam where they will, baby doll," he said gently. He held still, awaiting her reaction. She gave him a watery smile, and he could feel some of the tension in her body dissipate.

She ran her fingertips lightly through the patch of dark hair on his muscled chest. Shifting from under him, she rolled to her side, pushing him lightly onto his back. "I think I'd prefer to share the first one," she purred, straddling his hips and sliding her satin skin along the length of him.

"Okay by me," Jayne agreed, letting out a low groan as she began to move more urgently against him.

XXXXXXXXXX

Mal opened one eye, noting blearily that he was finally back in his cell and out of the nightmarish interrogation room where he'd spent five days. He had been fair certain that he was going to wake up dead hanging from the gorram bar like a side of beef. He was grateful for the respite, whatever its ultimate purpose.

He shifted minutely, trying to ease into a tolerable posture. The movement caused him to cough and he tasted blood in his mouth. The sharp pain in his side was indicative of at least a bruised ribcage, if not a cracked one. He gingerly ran his hand down his torso, pressing as hard as he could bear to feel any break. Relieved when all his ribs proved to be intact, he moved his tongue around his parched mouth, seeking the source of the blood there. He discovered a long cut on the inside of his cheek, more than likely caused by his own teeth during one of the blinding blows he'd received to his head and face.

Taking further inventory, Mal was somewhat surprised to discover he still seemed to be all of one piece. Long, jagged scratches, cuts, and scrapes marred his chest and arms, but nothing vital had been hit. The red, angry welts across his back and shoulders from the blows of a wickedly thin whip battled with the bruises and contusions of the clubs applied to the same raw areas. In point of fact, he could find no spot on his body that had not had its fair share of battering and bruising.

Mal shifted again, sending fresh pain to sensitive nerve endings along his lower back and legs. He felt abruptly dizzy, and closed his eyes against the glare of the lights. Thinking he'd done enough wound assessment for one day, he leaned back carefully against the wall, the cold stone soothing his burning back.

A panel at the bottom of the cell door slid open after a time, and Mal eyed it warily, conjuring that a fresh torment awaited him. But he was relieved to see a tray of some sort pushed in, and the panel slid shut behind it. Wondering almost idly if he was now to be poisoned, he carefully crawled the few feet to the door and examined the contents of the tray. His hunger battled with his suspicion. After a short while, the hunger won, and he put the tasteless mush into his mouth, mindful of the cut there. As hungry as he was, he found he could only manage a few bites before his pain and exhaustion forced him to stop eating. Sighing, he inched his way back to the corner of his cell, allowing himself as much room as possible to stretch out on the cold floor. Now that the initial burning of his abused body had subsided, the coldness of the cell became increasingly painful. And, as no one had bothered with providing him a new prison uniform, he could only assume his time in the interrogation room was probably not quite done.

Putting that thought firmly aside, he closed his eyes and imagined River, her hair falling softly across his chest and her warm body pressed into his side in the soft light of their bunk. And he imagined the subtle changes that would come as his child grew within her. Finding it to be another form of torture, this time self-inflicted, he swallowed back the sorrow that rose up to engulf him. He had no idea how far he was from where she sailed on Serenity, but he used the remains of his emotional strength to reach out to her with all the love and devotion he had. He hoped it would be enough to find and sustain her.

XXXXXXXXXX

River sat on the bridge, plotting a course away from Greenleaf. Zoe and Jayne had delivered the cargo without incident, except for having to accept slightly less than the agreed upon price because of missing their original deadline. The next stop was Harvest, one day away from their current position.

River had convinced Simon that she was stable enough to pilot Serenity and to be privy to the evolving plan of the Operative. While the crew remained vaguely uneasy with her apparent normalcy, the Operative, strangely enough, seemed only too pleased to believe her capable of a meaningful contribution to the discussion held nightly in the ship's galley.

Staring out into the Black, she turned her focus inward, as she was beginning to do with greater frequency. Skimming lightly along the surface of her child's forming intellect, she felt the fierce joy of knowing that the child was growing stronger as a person every day. Soon, she would be able to see it, as she had seen the potential of Sam in what seemed to her now ages ago.

Reaching deeper, she was inundated with an abruptly intense connection to her husband. She could suddenly see him, hurt so badly, and yet somehow still so strong a presence in her mind. She felt, as if he were truly there, the safety of his arms and the steady calm that she had staked her sanity on so long ago. Breathless with the intensity of the emotion, she closed her eyes to soak up the power of the message he was somehow sending to her. And focusing all her ability on the task, she tried to send a message of her own in response.

XXXXXXXXXX

Jayne sat in Inara's shuttle, watching her putter around aimlessly. Finally, she sat down beside him, nestling into the curve of his arm and leaning her head against his chest. "Everything ready for tomorrow then?" he asked, the vibration of his voice a pleasantness against the side of her face.

"Yes," she sighed. "As ready as it can be, considering I'm to be in charge of an inquisitive five-year-old for an undisclosed amount of time."

Jayne laughed. "You'll be all right. Anya will look after you. She's one tough little cookie."

Inara jabbed him in the ribs. "I'm serious, Jayne. What if something happens? What if this plan doesn't work and Zoe never comes back?" Her voice dropped to a whisper. "What if you don't come back?"

"Well," Jayne said blandly, "Then you got a young 'un to raise." At Inara's expression, he continued, "Only I'm intending to come back, you understand, and so is Zoe, so I don't see as there's an outstanding issue."

"So you're feeling more confident about the scheme?" Inara asked seriously.

"It's still rough in patches, but it's fleshin' out a mite. And if Simon can make with the right connections, we'll improve the odds considerable."

He kissed the top of her head, secretly still amazed she'd allow the gesture. "You plannin' on pining for me whilst I'm gone?"

Inara looked up at him with a crooked grin. "I'll cry into my pillow every night."

Jayne laughed. "See that you do that," he said, pulling her up to kiss her smile into something more.

XXXXXXXXXX

Zoe held Anya close to her chest, trying to soothe the worry from the child's eyes. "Miss Inara will take good care of you, little one, and soon's I can, I'll come back to get you."

"But I want to stay with you, Mama. I want to go see Captain Mal with you. I'll be good. I won't get in the way. Please don't leave me." Anya's blue eyes shone with the tears she was about to cry.

Zoe's heart broke a little as the first tear spilled down the soft skin of Anya's cheek. "I can't take you with me where I'm goin', child. It ain't that you'd be in the way or that I think you'd be misbehavin'. But where Captain Mal is, they don't let little folk go."

Anya looked at her skeptically. Zoe continued, "Now where you and Miss Inara are going, there's all kinds of children to play with. You'll be stayin'near Miss Kaylee's family, and she has lots and lots of little ones in her family."

Anya's mood began to brighten. "And will Miss Inara let me play in her pretty dresses and brush my hair like she does Miss Kaylee's sometimes?"

Zoe smiled. "I conjure she might, if you ask nice enough."

Anya wriggled in anticipation. "And you promise you'll come back with Captain Mal soon's you can?"

Zoe nodded solemnly. "I promise."

Anya was quiet for a moment, and Zoe could practically see the wheels turning in her agile little mind. "Since tonight is the last night we'll be together for a little while, can I stay up a little later and…" She stopped, turning on all the charm she could handle. "Maybe hear two bedtime stories 'stead of just one?"

Zoe looked at her calmly. "Just this once," she replied. "But you do know you're pushing it, right?"

Anya giggled, holding up the book for Zoe's approval. "Yup, sure do," she said.

XXXXXXXXXX

To be continued


	10. Chapter 10

**Rock and a Hard Place**

**Part X—The Underground**

Author: justslummin

Disclaimer: I own none of these characters. I just like to play with 'em.

Rating: PG

Summary: Simon recruits some help, and the crew puts the Operative's plan in motion.

XXXXXXXXXX

Simon sat uncomfortably in the back room of a book store on Osiris, pleading his case to a less than enthusiastic group of men and women.

"How can you be certain of his true intent?" the leader of the group asked. "How can we know that this is not simply an elaborate ruse to expose our members, Dr. Tam?"

Simon looked at the man steadily. "I can only say that he's done nothing while with us to indicate duplicity. I was dubious myself at first, but I've come to believe that he means River no harm. He is, rather, trying to prevent harm to her by even attempting to destroy the genetic samples in question."

A woman from the group spoke up. "I know that part of Dr. Tam's story to be true. The Alliance did retrieve genetic material from each of the Academy students for future use. I saw that much with my own eyes."

Simon nodded to her in acknowledgement. "Captain Reynolds and the Operative had hoped to destroy it all in the lab here, but unfortunately, the powers that be apparently hedged their bets. They had a contingency plan."

"Please excuse us for a moment, Dr. Tam, while we discuss this among ourselves."

Bowing politely, Simon stepped back out into the book store and tried to look like a casual buyer. After what seemed an excruciatingly long wait, he was beckoned back into the room. "We've decided to hear you out, Dr. Tam. If your proposal is sound, we will be agreeable to helping you as best we can without compromising ourselves in the process."

Simon pulled up a chair, and the small group gathered around the table. Producing a data disk, he began to lay out the basics of the plan. "As you can see from the first schematic, we're talking about breaching a maximum security facility. We'll need people on the inside as well as a number on the outside. The easiest way to get into the prison is to be an employee or a prisoner. It has been decided that the Operative and I will pose as prisoners, as our identities cannot be concealed effectively. Our ship's mechanic and another crew member who travels with us can pass as a maintenance worker and guard respectively."

"So what do you need us for?" the leader asked.

"We'll need paperwork to back up both sets of stories. Prisoner transport forms for me and the Operative, and personnel requisitions for Kaylee and Jayne."

"Shouldn't be a problem," one of the men said. "I can generate them easily enough."

"Good," Simon said. "But the next part may be a little more problematic. We need a prison transport vessel with a valid registration to enter the airspace surrounding the prison itself."

Silence fell over the group for a moment, as they digested that bit of information. The leader finally asked, "Assuming we can accomplish that, how are you planning to take down an entire Alliance facility with only four people on the inside?"

Simon swallowed nervously. "Well, that's the other thing we need. We would require at least four of your people on the inside as well, preferably at least two of whom would pose as guards, and ideally, one who could pose as a lab technician to get us access to the laboratory itself."

"That all you think you'll need?" the leader asked sarcastically.

"No, it's not," Simon replied, letting just a hint of steel slip into his tone. "We'll also need people on the outside, preferably trained soldiers, to help us take the facility once we give the signal."

Drawn to the earnest sincerity in Simon's answer, the leader of the underground movement sighed. "Son, even if we could somehow manage to do all you say, the risk to my people is simply too great. I understand your desire to free your Captain. We'd like to see him freed as well. He's done us a great service by broadcasting the Miranda Wave. And I understand your need to halt the second generation Academy Project. We, too, wish to see it ended. But I cannot ask my people to put themselves at such risk as you describe."

Simon stood, placing his hands firmly on the table top. "If we don't find a way to stop it now, make no mistake. The Alliance will proceed with their purpose, and there will be an entire generation of people like my sister but without the humanity that they couldn't quite manage to strip from her and the others you've helped to free. A generation of readers who are warrior assassins without a scrap of humanity left in them. How safe will your people be then?" He paused, letting the import of his words hang in the air, and then said softly, "Please, help us now to prevent it while we still can."

Simon looked hopefully at the faces of the others in the group. A few looked openly distrustful, but most had at least a sympathetic expression. "We'll discuss it," the leader said. "But I can promise nothing."

Simon pressed further in desperation. "We don't have a lot of time to wait. I need an answer today. You can contact me on Serenity."

He turned to go, leaving the group to stare after him with conflicting emotions.

XXXXXXXXXX

Senator Holmes looked at the monitor closely. He and Dr. Lee were observing Reynolds in his cell attempting to move around as best he could. Tired of waiting idly for the experiment to commence, he asked the doctor, "Think he's recovered well enough for your team to begin?"

Dr. Lee considered his answer carefully. "I would have preferred that he not be subjected to McKinley's methods at all. But, things being as they are, perhaps his weakened physical state will actually facilitate our studies. We'll just have to see how it plays into your brother's hypothesis."

"So you believe he's ready then?" the Senator persisted.

"Let's give him until tomorrow morning. We'll start first thing, and should have at least preliminary data by day's end."

"Good," Holmes said, satisfied that his late brother's work would finally be continued. "One other question, Doctor. McKinley was unable to break through Reynolds' defenses well enough to ascertain information that would be useful to me. While your experiment is taking place, will we be able to achieve better results?"

"Make a list of the questions you want asked. The procedure, as I understand it from your brother's copious notes, makes the subject extremely susceptible to inquiry. I'll find out what you need to know."

The Senator smiled and slapped the doctor on the back. "Just what I wanted to hear. Now about the Academy Project. Where are we in the process?"

"You'll be pleased to know that fertilization of one-tenth of the remaining eggs has occurred. So far, there seem to be no problems with the process. Within the next few weeks, we'll be able to implant the zygotes into the surrogate hosts selected. Then, if all goes well, we'll have healthy fetuses soon after."

"Excellent," Senator Holmes said. "I am so pleased that Parliament agreed to partner with BlueSun for these experiments. I'm a firm believer in the importance of maintaining a working relationship with the private sector, you know."

Dr. Lee nodded briefly. "Yes, well, I'm pleased as well, Senator. But, if we are to begin with our subject tomorrow, I'll have to take my leave of you now. There are still some last-minute preparations to attend to."

"Of course," the Senator said. "Don't let me keep you. What time will we be starting tomorrow?"

Dr. Lee looked at him in surprise. "You wish to be present for the procedure?"

"Oh yes," the Senator replied. "I wouldn't miss it for the 'verse."

XXXXXXXXXX

Dinner was proving to be a tense affair on Serenity. Without Anya's sunny disposition and Inara's elegant conversational skills, the remaining crew had nothing to occupy their minds except the response they still awaited from Simon's contacts, and the realization that if they ended up with no one but themselves to rely on, the Operative's plan held little hope of genuine success.

Kaylee picked at her food and tried for casual conversation, but even she fell silent soon enough. Only River seemed even vaguely interested in eating, her early-pregnancy nausea now a thing of the past. Pausing with her fork still in mid-air, she startled everyone by saying suddenly, "They're here."

"Who's here?" Zoe asked, instantly on alert.

"The people we'll need," River said simply, continuing to eat.

She was correct. When Zoe lowered Serenity's ramp, there was a small band of ordinary looking folks awaiting permission to board.

"Evenin', ma'am," a tall man said, stepping out of the group. "We're here to see Dr. Tam."

Simon stepped forward. "Here I am. Have you come to a decision?"

"We have," the man replied. "This group of folks are the ones who've been chosen from our ranks to go with you to Salisbury. We've got the paperwork you said you'd require, and we should have some sort of prison transport vessel by tomorrow morning. Jen here's got a cousin who works in the scrapyard. He workin' on it for us." He looked around the dock furtively. "I think we'd best have the rest of this conversation inside, if it's all the same to you."

"Of course," Simon agreed. Then he thought to check with Zoe. "Right?"

Zoe looked calmly at the group. "You recognize all these folks from the meeting, doc?"

Simon carefully studied the faces before him. "Everyone except the three in the back."

"We'll vouch for them," the tall man replied.

"They part of your group then?" Zoe asked.

"Not exactly," he replied. "They're…"

"Three of my fellow students from the Academy," River supplied, gliding down the stairs to the cargo bay.

XXXXXXXXXX

All in all, there were eight people who had come to assist Serenity's crew. The three former Academy students, who would have to serve as the outside help because they would otherwise be instantly recognized and probably whisked away for further experimentation; a passable lab technician; three men who looked the part of Alliance prison guards; and one man who would pose as a prisoner along with Simon and the Operative.

While Zoe felt more than a little concern that she would be leading River and three other potentially psychotic warriors into a battlefield that was sure to, at the very least, trigger all manner of unpleasantness in their heads, River assured her that there would be no cause for worry. Remembering what just one of them could do to a room filled with Reavers, Zoe decided to take her word for it.

Gathered in the common area, they all talked long into the night, working and re-working the Operative's plan until even Jayne felt almost hopeful about their chances. Seeing the exhaustion etched clearly on every face, Zoe finally said, "Less'n there's any more questions, best we'd be getting' to sleep. Won't be much chance for that once we hit Salisbury. Those who ain't on Serenity's normal crew can sleep in the passenger dorms. We'll leave in the morning, soon's we get ahold of that transport."

The small group dispersed, talking quietly among themselves, and leaving Zoe and the Operative on the couch alone. "You really think we got a chance in hell of pullin' this off?" she asked, one eyebrow raised in challenge.

The Operative answered, "I'd say that our odds have improved somewhat with the addition of River's old classmates."

As Zoe shook her head in amazement, he added, "And it's the best chance we're ever likely to have. I'm not altogether confident that Captain Reynolds can last much longer if they are using the techniques I believe them to have at their disposal."

"What makes you think he's still alive at all?" Zoe asked softly, not quite looking at him.

"Two things," the Operative answered. "I believe it because Mrs. Reynolds believes it, and secondly, I believe it because…" He paused for a moment. "Because I can't bear the thought that it may not be true."

Shocked by the sentiment, Zoe could only watch as the Operative walked out of the common area quietly.

XXXXXXXXXX

To be continued


	11. Chapter 11

**Rock and a Hard Place**

**Part XI—Prison Walls**

Author: justslummin

Disclaimer: I own none of these characters. I just play with 'em.

Rating: PG

Summary: Mal has his second encounter with BlueSun, and the crew infiltrates the prison.

XXXXXXXXXX

"On your feet," the smaller of Mal's guards said, stepping into his cell.

Mal stood slowly, none too eager to go wherever he was about to be taken. Still favoring the worst of his wounds, he winced as the guards cuffed his wrists and ankles yet again. He shivered in the chill of the corridor. "Any chance of getting some clothes?" he asked lightly.

"Ain't gonna need 'em where you're goin'," the larger guard replied, grinning.

Thinking how very creepifying that statement was, Mal shuffled forward as the guards flanked him on either side. He assumed he was headed back to the interrogation room, and was mildly surprised when the guards led him in another direction. The monotony of cell doors gave way to a series of what looked to be offices, though at the early morning hour, the offices appeared to be empty of personnel.

Turning down another corridor, Mal began to suspect what the day might hold. He had entered into an area that was clearly a cluster of small laboratories. Suppressing a shudder at the memory of time spent in similar surroundings, he tried to fight the rising panic he felt. Physical brutality was one thing, he thought bitterly, but this was go se of another caliber altogether.

His heart sank further as he was pushed into a lab on the far end of the corridor. The glaringly bright lights revealed a scene with which he was all too familiar. A metal table bristling with restraints stood directly under the lights, with various monitors surrounding it. But the thing that caused a cold trickle of sweat to run down the dip of his spine was the tray of long silver needles pushed to the side of the table, gleaming malevolently in the light.

"On the table," the smaller guard ordered. Mal stood stock still, unwilling and unable to make himself comply. Every instinct that had kept him alive through the war and through every situation gone pear-shaped since screamed at him to halt the inevitable progression here. Knowing he had no chance of resisting in his weakened condition, he took at least a moment's satisfaction in making the guards expend some effort to wrestle him into position on the table.

No sooner had he been restrained than a door to his right side opened. Three men stepped in, two of whom had the characteristic bland expression he'd come to associate with BlueSun employees. Confirming that disheartening fact, he saw with his peripheral vision the tell-tale blue gloves that seemed to be their trademark. The other man he did not know, but the look of sheer sadistic pleasure on his face made Mal instantly hate him just the same.

"Mr. Reynolds," said one of the BlueSun employees calmly, "I am Dr. Lee. I believe you are familiar with the procedure we're about to perform."

Mal swallowed the bile that rose in his throat and made a conscious effort to slow his breathing. Tensing as the first needle was inserted into his immobilized arm, he waited for the violent tremors he knew would begin shortly. He remembered that the effect would wear off eventually, but the thought brought little relief, as his body was seized by convulsive spasms that slammed fresh agony into his embattles muscles. Gritting his teeth, he rode out the sensory storm.

"Excellent," said Dr. Lee as he and the other BlueSun technician attached the leads and calibrated their instruments carefully. "Now, I must remind you to lie perfectly still for the next step, Mr. Reynolds. We wish to avoid any unnecessary unpleasantness."

"Yeah, wouldn't want that," Mal replied bitterly, closing his eyes to avoid seeing the technician pick up the first probe for insertion.

XXXXXXXXXX

The transport ship was quiet, as everyone onboard concentrated on the tasks at hand. Jayne tugged at the collar of the Alliance uniform, thinking that maybe its annoying fit was what made Alliance guards so irritable. Looking over at Simon, who fidgeted in his new prison garb, he wondered again about the likelihood of the success of this plan.

River, having relinquished the controls of the ship to Zoe once they approached the restricted airspace of the prison itself, was sitting across from Jayne. Every few minutes, he'd catch her flinch, her focus obviously turned inward to some eerie-ass sight only she could see. "You all right over there, girl?" he asked, when he heard a muffled whimper escape her lips.

River looked at him, her large brown eyes twin pools of despair. "Have to hurry now. Hands of blue, silver needles, nightmares brought to life, can't be endured for long this time."

Jayne had a sudden flash of memory, a sight he'd seen more than once in his own nightmares. Mal, strapped to that table in Jeremiah Holmes' estate, wicked-long needles shoved into his skull. "Ya' mean they're doin' what they done to him before?" he asked. "With the needles and the…"

River nodded miserably. "Too much this time. Won't last much longer." A single tear rolled down her cheek, causing something deep in Jayne's soul to twist uncomfortably.

"We're almost there, girl. We'll get him outta there. And then you and me'll take care of the worthless ching-wah tsao duh liou mahngs as took him."

"Yes, we will," River whispered softly.

XXXXXXXXXX

Senator Holmes was not enjoying himself as much as he had hoped. So far, he had learned nothing from Reynolds' responses except that he could scream quite loudly when adjustments to the probes were made. Growing impatient with the whole process, he asked irritably, "When do you think we'll know anything of value here, Doctor?"

Dr. Lee turned from the monitor he was studying. "We're acquiring valuable data even as we speak, Senator. The subject is responding quite well to our questions."

"But he hasn't even said anything," the Senator replied incredulously.

"True, but we are measuring various marked changes in his brain chemistry as we access different memories. Once the data is analyzed, we'll have a wealth of invaluable information."

Holmes looked disgustedly at Mal's twitching form. "Ill be back in a bit. Since this is obviously going to take longer than I thought, I believe I'll grab a bite to eat, and maybe some coffee."

"We'll be right here when you get back," Dr. Lee said blandly.

XXXXXXXXXX

"Stand by for landing clearance," the disembodied voice ordered.

Zoe sat back from her screen, pleased to have passed the first hurdle. "Everybody ready?" she asked over her shoulder. Hearing their murmured assent, she could hardly blame them for their lack of enthusiasm. The situation wasn't exactly one she was relishing either.

When the ship set down per the orders she'd received, she nodded to Kaylee, who proceeded to disable the ship in such a way as to make it appear unable to take off. Careful to keep the part she'd need to repair it, Kaylee nodded to Zoe and took her place at the door of the vessel.

Zoe watched calmly as Simon, the Operative, and one of the underground members were efficiently whisked away into the machinery of the Alliance penal system for processing. Hoping no one would think to check their cuffs, she held her breath in anticipation. So far, so good, she thought. Next, she watched as Jayne sauntered casually out of the ship with the three other men dressed as guards following closely behind. Last, Kaylee and the lab technician were directed to their respective departments by the disinterested prison personnel.

That left only Zoe, River, and her three Academy classmates to await their part in the scheme. When Zoe received clearance for takeoff, the transport ship shuddered perfectly in the landing area, and she called Control with the news that the ship was disabled.

"Do you require assistance?" the voice asked, vague irritation in the tone.

"No, we're good," Zoe replied easily. "Got our mechanic workin' on it right now."

"Call when the repairs are completed."

"Will do," Zoe said, sitting back to wait.

XXXXXXXXXX

From his position beside the general holding area, Jayne had a good view of Simon and the Operative. Simon's nervous look fit perfectly into his cover, Jayne thought, as he eyed the security cameras posted every few feet, making a mental note to ensure their destruction during the violence that was about to ensure.

Missing Vera, he eyed the piece of go se gun his new supervisor had issued to him. The only good thing that had come out of that little exchange had been locating the prison's armory, a piece of information likely to come in handy soon enough.

He saw Kaylee walk by in a maintenance jumper, and figured it wouldn't take her too long to get to work. She caught his eye briefly, and he smiled the barest of smiles, hoping to bolster her confidence.

"Come with me," his supervisor said. "I'll give you a quick tour, and then we'll figure out where best to place you."

Jayne followed the stupid son of a whore, noting with satisfaction that his three companions were similarly occupied.

XXXXXXXXXX

Simon shifted slightly, wishing he could go ahead and twist his wrists out of the trick cuffs he wore. The Operative, as if reading his thoughts, shot him a warning look. Pursing his lips in irritation, Simon looked pointedly elsewhere and resigned himself to the wait.

Kaylee, on the other hand, was quite busy. Having been given a very limited tour of her area, she received her first assignment from her slightly bored superior. "Any questions?' he asked.

Kaylee smiled sunnily. "Nope, think I got it," she said, picking up a tool kit and heading in the direction he pointed. "When you get done with that, head on back up here for your next assignment."

"Allrighty," Kaylee said.

When she was sure she was out of his sight, she quickly made her way to the room where the facility's backup systems were located. Her intent was to first disable the backup power supply, and then take out the main lines. Having only been allowed an hour to get that accomplished, she set to work immediately, hoping that everyone else was going to be in place by the time she finished.

XXXXXXXXXX

The lab technician was enduring the droning of her supervisor, who seemed intent on bringing her up to date on every protocol of the joint Alliance/BlueSun venture before even letting her see the lab. Finally, after an eternity of such nonsense, she was escorted down a corridor with a series of labs on each side. "There are only two rooms in use at the moment," her supervisor explained, opening the door to reveal a large room filled with cold storage units. You'll be working in this one." Pulling a sheath of papers from the counter, she said, "Read these, and begin processing the material in the second storage unit as soon as possible. Document your work here," she said, pointing to another set of forms. "If you have any questions, I'm just down the hall. Or, any one of these employees will be glad to help you," she said, indicating the handful of other technicians busily working at their respective stations.

"Thank you. I'm sure I'll be fine," the technician replied, wondering how she was going to do what needed to be done before the power went out.

XXXXXXXXXX

The Operative sat between Simon and the underground member in the holding cell, his hands itching to take a sword to the whole contingent of Alliance personnel he saw milling about before him. Having been so thoroughly deceived and utterly betrayed by the government to which he'd pledged his support, he was filled with the righteous indignation of the truly disillusioned zealot. Eagerly awaiting his moment of vindication, he watched the hands of the ancient clock on the wall tickling slowly down to his deadline.

XXXXXXXXXX

Zoe checked the chronometer again as River stepped up beside her. "Almost there," River whispered.

Zoe looked at the woman's pale face carefully. "You okay?"

River nodded, her hair falling into her face, "Just so close. Can feel him now. Needs us to come quickly. Hard to wait."

"Can you pinpoint his location?" Zoe asked, hearing the hope in her own voice.

"Yes," River answered simply.

"Good," Zoe said. "Simplifies things a mite." As she was speaking, she saw the bright lights of the facility flicker and then die out entirely. Alarms began to sound, as prison personnel rushed about in confusion to try to secure the facility.

"That's our cue," Zoe said, sprinting for the door, River's classmates right behind her.

River stood for a moment, surveying the scene before her. Stroking her belly lightly, she said, "Time to go get Daddy."

XXXXXXXXXX

To be continued


	12. Chapter 12

**Rock and a Hard Place**

**Part XII—Serenity Restored**

Author: justslummin

Disclaimer: I own none of these characters. I just like to play with 'em.

Rating: R

Summary: The crew finds Mal and destroys the plans of the Alliance.

XXXXXXXXXX

Moving in effortless tandem with the three Academy students, River caught up quickly with Zoe as the older woman approached the prison entrance. On her signal, the four fanned out, each taking a corridor to clear of any Alliance personnel unfortunate enough to be in their path. Zoe, watching their progress with a practiced eye, thought with a shudder of what such warriors could be capable of in Alliance hands. Snapping her mind immediately back into soldier mode, she advanced toward the general holding cell.

Hearing the sounds of a firefight, she ducked into the large area, pleased to see the Operative, Simon, and the other team member had freed themselves from their fake restraints and armed themselves with the guns and clubs plucked from the fallen bodies of their former guards. She took note that Simon, usually so reticent to take up arms, had improved somewhat in his prowess with a gun. Seeing that everything was under control in the holding cell area, she slipped quietly down another corridor.

Jayne, having effectively cleared a wide swath through the guard shack where he'd been when the lights went out, made his way down the main prison housing unit, opening doors and herding startled prisoners out into the hallways. Realizing the confusion their release would cause, he figured it would buy Serenity's crew extra time to do what they came to do.

He chuckled as he saw a group of soldiers round the corner and stop in their tracks, suddenly confronted with a mob of angry prisoners not looking to show mercy when they'd been shown none. Had a certain poetical feel to it, he thought, leaving the prisoners to handle the soldiers themselves.

He slipped quietly to the armory and slung several weapons haphazardly around his neck, being sure to gather up grenades for his trip to the lab.

On his way out, he met the Operative, who had come in search of a weapon more suited to his temperament. Finding, to his disappointment, no sword, he settled for a bayonet and grabbed a few grenades of his own. Hearing sporadic shooting coming from a room down the hallway, he stealthily padded to the doorway and looked in quickly. Simon sat, hunkered down behind a desk, covering Kaylee with his body and venturing a shot occasionally in the direction of the guard taking shots at them.

Moving with silent, deadly precision, the Operative ran the shooter through and withdrew the bayonet, dropping the corpse at his feet. "Get back to the ship," he told them briefly. "It needs to be prepared for takeoff now."

Nodding briefly, Simon helped his wife up and they moved out into the corridor quickly, headed for the exit closest to where the transport ship sat waiting. Zoe, coming into the same corridor, covered them as they made their way to the ship. Turning back to the interior of the prison, she moved toward the labs. It was time to retrieve the Captain.

XXXXXXXXXX

River glided down the corridor, her blades dripping with the blood of any who had tried to stop her purpose. She was vaguely aware of the progress of her classmates, as they entered the lab containing the genetic material that had been so cruelly stolen from them in their captivity. Satisfied that Jayne's grenades would finish the job they had started, she moved forward with a panther's grace.

Tilting her head to the side, she stopped, listening for the thoughts of the first snake she sought. Smiling, she pushed open the door to her right, and stood gazing at the man who had started the chain of events that had deprived her of her ai ren. Senator Holmes stared back at her, wide-eyed with sudden dread. He had never seen her personally, but he had seen the capture from the Maidenhead and had read the files about her extraordinary abilities. A slight tremor betrayed his burgeoning fear.

"You are Ezekiel, brother of Jeremiah Holmes," River said flatly.

"Yes." The answer came out as a whisper.

River advanced into the room to stand mere inches from her prey. "Your brother took someone who belonged to me, and paid for the indiscretion at the edge of my blade."

Holmes backed up as far was the wall would allow, licking his dry lips nervously. River closed the distance between them, her face hard as stone. "And now you would presume to do the same. I will say this now and for the last time. He belongs to me."

More quickly than Holmes could see, River's palm shot out, driving the bones of his face through the soft tissue of his brain. Shuddering a last breath, he slumped bonelessly to the floor.

Wiping her hand across her skirt, she turned and headed for the laboratory at the end of the corridor. Listening closely at the closed door, she heard the low murmur of voices.

"What do you think is happening out there?" one voice said.

"I'll check it out. There's no need for us both to sit here. We can't proceed anyway until the power is restored."

Standing to the side of the door, River waited until the man had cleared the entrance. Then, felling him with one sweeping swing of her blade, she stepped into the dim light of the lab.

"Who's there?" Dr. Lee asked, unable to see clearly beyond a few feet without the overhead lights.

River made no answer, padding silently along the wall until she was behind him. "Anyone there?" he asked again, more than a little uneasy now.

Mal stirred on the table, moaning slightly. Lee turned to check on his victim. Leaning in close to see better, he heard an eerie voice behind him.

"Don't touch him again." Lee whirled around, coming face to face with River. "In fact," River said, tilting her head to the side, "you mustn't touch anyone else ever again."

She reached out and with a sharp twist snapped his neck cleanly. Hearing a sound behind her, she whirled quickly. Zoe stood in the doorway, weapon at the ready.

"You 'bout done here?" Zoe asked calmly. "The captures have been taken, the documentation of what's been happening here has been packed up, and the prisoners have been evacuated to the outside."

The Operative appeared behind her. "And the charges have been set. Our people are all accounted for. What about Captain Reynolds?"

River turned to her husband. His eyes fluttered open at the sound of his name. "Hope to hell I ain't just dreaming this," he murmured weakly.

River gently touched his cheek. "We all are, ai ren."

Jayne appeared in the doorway. "Can we make with the getting the hell off this rock already?" he asked.

"Gladly," the Operative replied, helping River remove the probes and leads and free Mal from his restraints. Flanking Mal on either side, he and River each took an arm and steadied the Captain as they made their way to the transport ship, leaving Jayne to detonate the charges.

Almost before everyone could board, Jayne came out of the complex, grinning like a kid in a candy store as he stepped onto the ship. "Best be taking off pretty gorram quick, less'n you wanna leave in pieces," he said.

Zoe returned his grin. "Like those charges near as much as the grenades, huh?' she said as she eased the ship into orbit.

"Damn straight," Jayne replied.

XXXXXXXXXX

Simon examined Mal as thoroughly as he could without access to his diagnostic equipment, while River sat silently beside him, one of his hands enfolded in her own. When Simon finally stopped poking and prodding and left them alone, Mal said softly, "Can't believe you came for me, bao bei. That was a gorram foolish thing to do."

Not even vaguely chastised, River said simply, "I'll always come for you."

"That's the case, we're both like to die sooner rather than later, I conjure," Mal replied mildly.

River quirked one eyebrow. "Perhaps, but then again, maybe we're not so easy to kill." 

Mal chuckled. "Maybehaps you got a point." Turning more serious, he asked, "You okay, darlin'?"

River nodded, her eyes luminous with the depth of feeling she had for this man. "I'm all right."

"And the little one?" Mal asked, his voice catching with the memory of assuming he would not live to see his family again.

"He's fine, Mal. Growing stronger every day."

"He?" Mal asked.

River smiled, tears of relief and joy mingling on her cheeks. "Yes, ai ren. We're going to have a son."

XXXXXXXXXX

"I understand I owe you quite a debt," Mal said to the Operative an hour before they reached Osiris.

"No more of a debt than I owe you and your crew," the Operative said. "Thanks to your merry band of travelers, I have reason to believe the Academy Project has been permanently halted. Also, now that I have been at least partially accepted into the underground movement, I believe I will be able to achieve certain of my other goals with their assistance."

"You plannin' on overthrowin' the government?" Mal asked with a hint of humor in his voice.

"Not today," the Operative said, allowing himself a faint smile. "But the evidence of corruption we've amassed should go a long way toward, shall we say, reforming the system. Care to join us? Once those bruises heal, you'd make an appealing poster boy for the new revolution."

Mal smiled wryly. "Thanks, but I think I'll pass. Got me and mine to see to. Don't need any more complications, way I see it."

"I expect you're right about that," the Operative said, standing to leave. "I have to say, for a man who craves simplicity, you do seem to attract complications."

"Yeah, well, it's a gift," Mal said.

XXXXXXXXXX

After dropping the Operative, the members of the underground movement, and River's fellow students back on Osiris, the crew arrived safely back at the docks. Inordinately pleased to be back on Serenity again, Mal sat in the galley with Zoe.

"Quite the big rescue you pulled off back there," he said, sipping his tea gingerly to avoid hurting the still healing scar in his mouth.

Zoe gave him a slow smile. "You know me, sir. One daring mission after another."

"Guess you'll be glad to have Anya back," Mal said.

"Yes, I will," Zoe answered, looking at him with such warmth in her eyes as he never thought he'd see again after the day they'd buried Wash. "I'm glad you took her on, Zoe," he said, perilously close to a tender moment with his first mate.

"Me too," she replied softly.

XXXXXXXXXX

As soon as Serenity landed on Harvest, Zoe could see Anya in the crowds on the dock, jumping up and down and tugging on Inara's sleeve. Inara leaned down gracefully, apparently giving the child permission to run ahead without her. Long blonde hair flying wildly behind her, Anya ran as fast as she could and jumped into Zoe's outstretched arms.

"You came back," she said, joy radiating from every pore.

"Said I would, didn't I?" Zoe asked, hugging the girl close to her heart.

"And you brought back Captain Mal," Anya said when she spied her other favorite person sitting on a stack of crates in the cargo bay. Frowning, she observed the still-purple bruises marring Mal's face. "You bad hurt, Captain Mal?"

"No, blondie," he lied. "Nothing a pinch of little girl suger can't cure."

Anya wriggled out of Zoe's arms and ran to him, climbing up beside him on the crates. Planting soft, sloppy kisses along his jawline, she asked, "That better?"

"Much better," he said, kissing her forehead. "Now run along and see who else is needful of a kiss."

As Anya disappeared up the stairs, Inara walked into the cargo bay. "Hello, Mal," she said warmly, pleased immeasurably to see him again.

"Hello, 'Nara," he replied easily. "Everything go all right here?"

"It was wonderful," Inara said. "Spending time with that child has to be one of life's finer pleasures. And how are you?'

"Better, now I'm home," Mal answered, walking up the stairs carefully.

Jayne met him on his way down. Seeing Inara standing at the foot of the stairs, he smiled a lazy smile.

"Hey you," Inara said, her heart beating a little faster than it had a moment ago.

"Hey," Jayne replied. "Want I should go with you to get the shuttle?'

"That would be lovely," Inara replied, slipping her hand over his arm.

XXXXXXXXXX

Mal lay in his bunk, listening to the sweet sound of Serenity's engine, as they sailed into the Black once more. River sighed, burrowing into the warmth of his side. Running his fingers softly down the smooth skin of her back, Mal asked, "What are you thinking right now, darlin'?"

"Thinking about Serenity, and our family, and picturing the future," River answered.

"And what does it look like?" Mal asked.

"Like freedom," she answered, resting her head softly against his beating heart.

XXXXXXXXXX

Author's note: Thus this story of Serenity's crew ends, after two and one-half months and over 100,000 words. I want to thank all who have taken the time to read the tale from its beginning in "Voices" to its conclusion here. And I extend a special thank you to those who, through their comments and reviews, helped make the experience a real pleasure for me. Happy reading and writing to you all.


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